


More than I bargained for

by follow_your_fire



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: A touch of somnophilia, AU - University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background relationship/hook-ups mentioned, Blow Jobs, Bottom Arthur, Everyone is kinda slutty lol, First Time Bottoming, Gay For You, Gay Panic, Gwaine Being Gwaine, M/M, Rimming, Straight Arthur, Top Merlin, arthur being an idiot, from PWP to fluffy porn - again (FML lol)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 08:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27347929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/follow_your_fire/pseuds/follow_your_fire
Summary: Arthur's had enough of hearing about Merlin's unsurpassed bedroom skills from his friends.There's no way Merlin is better than him, is there?Well, only one way to find out.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 677
Collections: Bottom Arthur Fest





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~~I think I finally managed to write something that's not like 50% fluff, lmao~~
> 
> nvm, chapter 2 and 3 happened and fluffiness took the reins 😅😅
> 
> I was inspired by [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12059250/chapters/27309480) SPN fic.

I’m telling you, Perce, it was the best sex I’ve ever had and then some! He sucked my brain straight out of my dick.”

“I don’t believe you. That would imply you had one before.”

“Haha, very funny. Fuck you, Percy.”

Overhearing Gwaine boasting about his latest sexapades is enough to make Arthur question his choice of friends - again. He’s only a few feet away from the booth and Percy and Gwaine haven’t noticed him yet. He still got time to get the hell out of the pub before it’s too-

“Arthur! There you are. What kept you?”

_Ah. Never mind._

Reluctantly, he makes his way to the booth, shoving Percy to the side and sliding in between the seat and the table, letting out a resigned sigh.

“Some people actually have to study, Gwaine.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. I was just informed I don’t have a brain, so...”

“Because it got sucked out of your dick, right?” Arthur rolls his eyes. “Who’re you talking about now?”

“Emrys.”

“Who?”

“Merlin.”

“Oh.” Yeah, Arthur knows the nerd. Well, _knows_ might be a little too strong of a word, but _he’s met him_. “Wait a minute. He’s gay? I thought he dated that bartender chick.”

At least he thinks he did. It’s not like he pays attention to the contemporary gossip or whatever other students get up to.

Gwaine chuckles at Arthur’s attempt to sound oblivious. “Pan, actually. And you can cut the bullshit. We all know you’ve been keeping an eye on Freya, so don’t even pretend you don’t know her name.”

“I have not!” he protests vehemently. 

“Please." Gwaine waves a hand.

“So she’s hot, so what? Can’t a guy have a look here and there?”

“Sure, you slag.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Hey-”

“Boys, boys.” Percy tries to tame them both. “No arguing.”

“We’re not,” they say simultaneously.

“Sure, just discussing, right?” Percy shakes his head.

“Exactly,” Arthur agrees. “Anyways,” he comes back to the previous conversation. “So Merlin is a good lay, you say? Sorry, I can’t really picture it. Isn’t he just a nerd?”

“Oh, like you don’t know, Arthur - it’s always the quiet ones.” And he winks for an effect which - absolutely unnecessary, by the way.

“Hm.” Arthur pretends to think. “Maybe you’re just too easy.”

“Oh, sod off!” Gwaine all but slams his pint on the table. “Just because I’m easily pleased doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate A+ performance.”

“I don’t know,” Arthur insists. “I just think guys are much easier to impress. Especially you. And anyway, it was just once, wasn’t it? I bet it was an anomaly.”

Gwaine scowls at him. “Fine. How about we ask Freya, then?”

“What?”

“It makes sense. They used to date; I’m sure they got up to some funny business more than once, so less chance it was an anomaly.” He looks irritatingly smug and Arthur eventually agrees with his reasoning, if only to shut him up.

“Fine, let’s ask her.”

“Brilliant. Go ahead.”

“Excuse me?” Arthur squeals. “It was your idea! You ask her!”

“You can be such a sissy sometimes.” Gwaine laughs at him. “Fine, we’ll all go.”

“Nope, I’m staying right here,” Percy refuses resolutely.

“So boring,” Gwaine grumbles under his breath and gets out off the booth, Arthur trailing behind him. They gesture for Freya to come over when they get to the bar, Arthur ordering a pint for himself and Gwaine suddenly all business.

_Oh, priorities._

“So... Freya,” he says suggestively, whipping up his best smile, which only makes Freya suspecting right away - rightfully so.

“Yes, Gwaine, I’m wearing underwear today, like I do every day. Any more questions?” she says exasperatedly while filling up a pint glass, making Arthur burst into giggles. Shit, he really likes this one. She’s got spunk, Arthur likes a little fire.

“Ah, that’s not what I was going for, but good to know.” he winks, drawing a huff from her. “I was actually wondering about your ex-boy-toy.”

Freya frowns a little. “Merlin? What about him?”

“Oh, you know. I just had the pleasure to experience some of his... magic, let’s call it. I was telling Arthur all about it and sadly, he believes I'm exaggerating. Thinks I’m too easy for my opinion to be valid.”

“I can see why he would think that-"

“But!” He holds up a finger. “I also told him that you must have had even more opportunities to enjoy Merlin’s skill yourself. And I was hoping you would share _your_ opinion on the matter.”

Freya doesn’t stop frowning, but she seems to ponder the suggestion, squinting at Gwaine and also giving Arthur an inquiring look.

“And why would I do that? Don’t you think it’s a little personal?”

“True." Gwaine shrugs, like it’s no big deal to him. “But you should know that Arthur here," he slams a hand on his shoulder, as if Freya doesn’t know him, “thinks that I’m making it up because he sees Merlin only as a giant nerd. I think he might feel a little threatened, you know. He prides himself on his shagging skills.”

“Gwaine! Shut the fuck up!” Arthur flicks his hand away, shooting him a murderous glare. _Fucking traitor._

To his surprise, it makes Freya laugh, and he’s not sure if it’s a good sign, or not. “I see." She turns to Arthur this time, a glint in her eyes that wasn’t there before. “In that case, you should know, Arthur,” she leans over the counter, “that you would have a looooot to live up to,” she says as she plops the beer in front of him and she’s off to serve another customer.

Arthur knows he’s blushing furiously, both from embarrassment and indignation. How can a twiggy little thing like Merlin be a better lay than him?!

Noticing Gwaine’s smug face, he grabs his beer and turns his back to him.

“Just shut up, you wanker.”

* * *

Eventually, Arthur forgets all about what happened in the pub, but it’s only two weeks later that he’s in the locker room, changing after his footie practice, when he overhears a few of his team-mates whispering conspiratorially around the corner, and he thinks he recognizes Mordred’s voice.

“Holy shit, guys, you wouldn’t believe. I came so hard I blacked out. One minute, Merlin is pounding me from behind, and the next I’m blinking up at him, totally disoriented. The fucker melted my brain, I’m telling you.”

Red to the tips of his ears - and he wasn’t trying to eavesdrop anyways! - Arthur rushes to put his jeans and T-shirt on as fast as possible, forgoing showering and bursting through the door, just so he can get out of there. He can take the shower at home anyway.

And what the fuck is it about that Merlin guy?

* * *

The lockers incident is decidedly harder to push to the back of his mind, but he still manages. But the Universe is picking on him, apparently, and not even a week has passed when he’s packing his stuff after a lecture, and on his way up the stairs he passes by Freya’s desk. He also notices that Mithian, probably his most favorite friend with benefits, has joined Freya for a chat. Great, two of his favorite people in one place; he can at least say hi and ask what they are up to.

He regrets that decision the second he overhears a tidbit of their conversation.

“I can’t believe you’ve never told me! After all that time we’ve spent talking about boys and you never bothered to mention that your ex is a fucking sex god!”

“You’ve got to be joking,” tumbles out of his mouth before he realizes he’s speaking. The girls jump a little at the unexpected interruption, but relax when they recognize him.

“What?” asks Mithian.

“Has the nerd shagged everyone in this class?” He doesn’t know why it irritates him so much, and he refuses to question it.

“Why, Arthur? Are you itching for a turn?” Mithian teases, and for God’s sake, they both start to giggle.

“No, thank you very much.”

“Shame. I think you’d have a lot of fun,” she comments playfully.

“I’m straight!” he defends indignantly and to his further distress, it just makes them laugh harder.

“So is spaghetti until you get it wet..” Mithian winks at him, obviously enjoying seeing him so flustered outside of the bedroom, and says bye to Freya, making her way out.

Before Arthur can spiral into a panic regarding her last comment, he gets moving, catching up with her just outside the door.

“I have a question.”

“Oh, I’m all ears.” She makes a show of angling her ear towards him.

“I’m serious. I need to ask something and I want you to give me an honest answer. No sugar-coating.”

“You know me, Arthur. When have I ever lied to you?”

Well, that much is true. Alright, then. “Great. So,” he clears his throat, fidgeting a little. “Who’s better?”

“What?”

“Who’s better,” he repeats. “Me, or Merlin?”

At first, Mithian just blinks at him, and then the corners of her mouth are lifting up.

“Someone’s jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Oh, sorry, my bad,” she snickers, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You really want me to answer that?”

Yes. Yes, he does. “Yeah.”

“Okay." She takes a step closer, brushing her lips against his cheek as she speaks. “Let’s just say there is a lot for you to learn.”

Before Arthur can scream himself hoarse, she continues. “But don’t worry. You’re still my favorite. You’re way too adorable to give up.”

And she’s gone, leaving Arthur disgruntled and humiliated in the middle of the hallway.

* * *

“Invite Merlin next time we go for a drink.” Arthur tries his hardest to sound as indifferent as possible and not give away how long he’s been musing over this particular thing, nearly driving himself crazy with anxiety.

“Wow, where did that come from?” Gwaine narrows his eyes at him, and Arthur averts his gaze quickly.

“Just an idea. Seems like I’m the only one who hasn’t met him properly,” he mutters so quietly Gwaine has to strain his ears to catch the words.

Arthur _has_ met Merlin. In fact, the man shows up at their footie matches more often than not. He always comes alone and doesn’t do anything except sitting on the bench and watching the game. After the game, he sometimes talks to Gwaine or Leon, but eventually disappears from the pitch when it’s time for everyone to take a shower. Arthur’s never questioned it. He’s always assumed Merlin must be bored, and since he’s friends (at least on some level) with everyone from the team, it kinda makes sense that he comes cheer for them.

“Oh, so now you would like to get to know him properly, huh?” Gwaine waggles his eyebrows, and Arthur smacks him with his notepad. It makes a satisfying, slapping sound.

Yes, he wants to get to know him, but only so he can unravel the mystery. He has absolutely no idea what’s so special about the guy that all his friends seem smitten by him. Or, at least, by a certain skill of his.

“Do you only ever think about sex?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?”

“No!” He doesn’t, not really. He thinks of it plenty, but it’s not at the forefront of his mind. Not like Gwaine, who only has one function.

“Right,” he says in a tone that means he doesn’t believe him, and Arthur could care less. “So, this Friday, then?”

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Wonderful. I’ll let Merlin know you requested his presence.”

“Gwaine!!”

* * *

There’s absolutely no reason for Arthur to be nervous, but his sweaty palms and labored breathing tell another story. He’s not nervous, though, he’s just... a bit... uncomfortable with the prospect of welcoming another person to their circle of friends. He pointedly ignores the fact he was the one to invite Merlin in the first place.

He can only be grateful that Percy is utterly oblivious to the state Arthur’s in, preoccupied with typing on his phone. His current predicament only takes turn to worse when he spots Gwaine with Leon and Merlin in tow, walking towards their table where Arthur's stewing in his own juices.

_Is it the lighting or has Merlin’s cheekbones always been so sharp?_

_What the fuck, Arthur?! Why would you notice his cheekbones?!_

“Look who’s here first! Just so you know, Merlin, Arthur’s usually the last to arrive, but he must have been so excited about you joining us that he made an exception,” Gwaine exclaims joyfully, and Arthur is already planning his murder, even as his face heats up. He can only pray that the dim light of the pub hides some of it.

“Fuck off, Gwaine. I came here with Perce,” he shoots back.

“As flattering as that sounds, I think you’re full of shit, Gwaine.” Merlin laughs and it’s so bright, and boisterous that Arthur forgets about his plans of homicide for a moment. “It _is_ nice, though, getting to meet you officially.” He offers his hand to Arthur, and Arthur responds instinctively, ignoring the weird, tingling sensation running up his arm when Merlin grips his hand in a surprisingly firm shake.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Flattering? Merlin thinks it flattering that Arthur could be excited about him? Which he’s not! Obviously.

He makes some room for Leon to join him on the bench, Merlin and Gwaine taking the one on the other side of the table. Percy automatically takes charge of ordering their drinks, carrying all five at once, the giant he is, and joins them at the table, sitting next to Gwaine.

Arthur, as subtly as he can, scans his gaze over Merlin’s form. And okay, Merlin cleans up nice when he puts some effort to it, it seems. If Arthur didn’t know better, he wouldn’t guess that he was a huge nerd. But... he does know better, so...

He didn’t have much time to compare their heights, but he thinks Merlin is just as tall as him, if not taller, which... how? How come he never noticed? It’s probably just Merlin’s slender stature that is so misleading.

He wouldn’t go as far as to call Merlin handsome, not conventionally, anyway. But he has to admit there is something to his features that makes it nearly impossible not to notice him.

It turns out that it wasn’t just a trick of light - his cheekbones are indeed unusually prominent. So are his eyes; the blue of his irises so deep and intense it’s not dimmed even in the shitty lighting. The most noticeable are his ears, though. On anyone else, Arthur would find those ridiculous. He still does now, but they sorta go with Merlin’s... with Merlin.

And then there are his lips. Arthur’s been told countless times that his own lips are so plump they could belong to a girl. He’s always taken it as a compliment. But he’s got nothing on Merlin and his plush mouth with just a hit of stubble surrounding it.

_That would probably leave a burn, but his lips must be soft enough to make up for it._

_Oh, God, what am I even thinking?! Stop right there!_

Yeah, fine, Arthur will give him that. He can see the appeal - just an unbiased observation, mind you. But there is nothing about Merlin that would scream _sex god._ No way is he better at it than Arthur. Now, if Arthur could just prove it.

* * *

Although Arthur is still determined to prove he’s more worthy of the title than Merlin, his half-baked idea has taken the backseat in the past two hours he’s spent talking to the man.

He’s flabbergasted to find Merlin absolutely hilarious. Actually, his sense of humor is so, so dark and wrong, and Arthur can’t help but think it endearing. He cracks up at every stupid joke Merlin makes, mesmerized by the way his lips form different shapes around each word, and how his face lights up when he laughs.

He blames it on the three beers he’s gulped down in that time.

Apart from his jokes, he’s not surprised to be proven right that Merlin is very much the nerd he’s always expected him to be. He switches between discussing poetry, to complaining about the current political situation, then promptly starts gushing about new breakthroughs in science.

Arthur only listens with one ear, more interested in witnessing the bob of Merlin’s throat and how it shines with a thin sheen of sweat. Merlin’s rumbling voice is incredibly soothing, and Arthur needs to slap himself occasionally to stay awake.

It’s not long before Leon excuses himself, claiming he has to work an early shift tomorrow, and bids everyone good night, and soon after Percy and Gwaine disappear in the crowd to mingle with a group of girls, obviously trying their luck. Can you call it luck, though, when they pull every single time?

It finally dawns on Arthur that he’s left alone. Alone with Merlin.

_Shit._

Furthermore, it occurs to him he hasn’t stopped watching Merlin for a long time now. Only for research purposes, though! Unfortunately, he hasn’t come up with a way to prove he’s better at sex than him. And how do you even prove such a thing, unless you... you know... have sex?

The thought has him look at Merlin in panic, praying that he doesn’t know what just went through his head.

And crap, Merlin catches him staring, a little smirk playing on his lips. Arthur opens his mouth in an attempt to avert the attention away from him and his ogling, but Merlin props his forearms on the table, fingers interlocked.

 _Wow, he has really big hands, fingers slender and so, so long_.

He snaps out of his reverie when he feels rather than sees Merlin lean slightly over the table, and Arthur feels his body-heat radiating off of him even in the space left between them. It shouldn’t be possible, but he does.

His brain tells him to sink in his seat and curl in on himself, shield himself from Merlin’s piercing gaze, but his body has a mind of its own, and to his utter bewilderment he finds himself swaying forward, closer to the other man.

What the hell is happening to him?!

“I must say, Arthur,” Merlin speaks, and _has his voice just gotten deeper?_ “I quite misjudged you.”

Arthur blinks at him, replaying their interaction and conversation of the past ten minutes to find what he missed, because he has no idea what Merlin is referring to.

“Misjudged me?” he repeats, and gets a confirming nod. “How so?”

In trance, he watches Merlin’s tongue flick across his lips to moisten them, and something foreign and curious stirs in his belly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve been staring at me ever since I sat down at this table.”

Arthur blushes immediately, but doesn’t bother denying it. What would he say, anyway? ‘ _Oh, yeah. I’ve just been wondering what makes you so special that every one of my friends won't shut up about you, and I’m actually trying to figure you out, only so I can prove them wrong.’_ Yeah, probably not.

Merlin keeps looking at him expectantly, and Arthur realizes he’s waiting for a response. Oh.

“Uh... I... no.”

A ghost of something resembling disappointment flickers in Merlin’s eyes, his smirk nowhere to be found anymore, and he puts some space between them.

“Oh, sorry. I thought--”

“I mean,” Arthur rushes to clarify, “no as in - you’re not wrong.” He mostly whispers the last part. “I have been... looking. At you.” He thinks he must sound like an idiot, at least that’s how he feels, but the way Merlin’s face lights up makes up for his embarrassment.

_Wait, what? Why do I even care?!_

“I’m pleased to hear that.” The smirk is back, although the way he looks at Arthur has changed. It might be just his imagination, but Arthur would swear there was much more blue visible a minute ago, whereas now it’s almost completely consumed by black.

The sight has his breath hitch, and to his absolute mortification he feels himself twitch in his way too tight jeans.

“I... ugh...”

“Don’t worry, Arthur,” Merlin continues. “I like it.”

_Oh, shit._

“Oh.”

“In fact." H straightens up, unlocking his hands and reaching one forward to trail his fingertips over Arthur’s knuckles that have turned white from gripping violently around his beer. “If you’d be amenable, I’d like to show you just how much I appreciate the attention.”

Oh, no. Nonono, this got way out of hand. Arthur just wanted to see what all the fuss is about, and prove that he’s way better than this lanky nerd. It’s not like he was coming onto Merlin! It’s not! _Right?_

Then again, how is he supposed to make his point if he doesn’t show what he’s capable of himself? It makes sense that he shows Merlin _personally_ just how much better he is. _Right?_

And anyway, it could be worse. If he’s going to bone with a bloke, he can at least show some gratitude that Merlin is not that bad-looking.

“I am... amenable.” He has a few seconds to panic when Merlin’s gaze darkens further. Arthur might as well be naked, given the way the other man seems to undress him with his searing eyes right there and then.

“What do you say we get out of here, then?”

Arthur looks around the pub, looking for the rest of their group. “What about-?”

“They won’t even notice we’re gone,” Merlin reassures, standing up, and points somewhere to the right, and Arthur follows the direction only to cringe as he spots Gwaine groping some blonde, oblivious to his surroundings.

“I see your point,” he agrees with barely concealed disgust. It’s not like he’s a saint, but he’s already seen way too much of Gwaine - he doesn’t need to see anymore. Instead, he stands up as well and comes around the table, abandoning his beer and stepping towards Merlin who’s looking way too pleased for Arthur to feel comfortable.

To make matters worse, he takes a few more steps closer to Arthur, until they nearly share the same breath. “My place, or yours?”

Pushing away the wave of anxiety that just came over him, he ponders the question to make a swift decision.

His place is a no go. As much as he would be more comfortable in his own flat, he doesn’t want to deal with kicking Merlin out when they are done. He doesn’t think Merlin is the type to overstay his welcome, but he can’t be sure and he’s not gonna risk it. It’s much easier to pack you own shit and get lost from the other person’s place.

Yeah, that’s what he’s gonna do. He just hopes that Merlin doesn’t have a flatmate.

“Yours.”

Merlin smiles approvingly, jerking his head towards the exit, motioning for Arthur to follow. Arthur does. He already feels his palms sweating and it’s getting harder to breathe.

_Jesus, calm the fuck down, you wuss! It’s not that different from being with a chick! Some kissing and groping. Maybe a handjob? No big deal; you already have a dick, you know what to do._

It’s ridiculous that the thought of kissing Merlin is the one that has his pulse quicken up. He can feel the blood rushing in his ears, muting out the noise of the pub.

He follows Merlin outside, stopping when the man does and turns to him.

“How did you get here?” Merlin asks.

“Percy drove us.”

“Good,” Merlin nods. “That way you don’t have to abandon your car, and we can just take mine.” He pulls the keys out of his pocket, pressing the button.

“Are you okay to drive?” Arthur checks. He has no interest in being driven straight into a tree or a ditch.

“I haven’t drunk anything.”

“You had a beer.”

“Same as Percy. Non-alcoholic.”

“Oh, okay, then.”

He joins Merlin in his Honda that has seen better days. Merlin tells him he lives only ten minute drive away, and Arthur doesn’t know if it should be good news - because the less time he has to freak out about it, the better - or bad news - because he is in no way ready for this.

It _is_ way too soon when they pull up in front of what Arthur assumes is Merlin’s flat, and to his relief, he doesn’t feel any worse than he did when they left the pub. Then again, he doesn’t feel better either.

He follows Merlin to the main entrance, and to the elevator, and to his flat on autopilot. His heart is in his throat, and it takes a significant effort to stay upright and not fall over with the force his knees buckle. _God, he feels like a virgin all over again._

Meanwhile, Merlin has managed to unlock the door, walking inside and holding it open for Arthur to do the same. Arthur does so before he can chicken out, and the second he steps over the threshold it feels like he sealed the deal. While it freaks him out on some level, it also feels like relief.

The door closes behind him, and then he has the whole length of Merlin’s lean body pressed against his back, his breath hot on Arthur’s neck.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined this?” he whispers huskily, lips grazing his earlobe. Merlin’s hands are on his hips, and he finds that instead of throwing him into another panic, the touch calms him down, grounding him in the moment.

“Wha- What do you mean? You just met me.” Properly, at least. Until tonight, they had never talked to each other, not really.

“Oh, Arthur.” Merlin chuckles, and it shouldn’t sound sexy, but it does. “You _are_ totally oblivious, aren’t you?”

“I’m not!” he disagrees with passion despite not knowing what Merlin’s referring to. However, his outburst is short-lived as Merlin’s hands start moving, sliding under the T-shirt and skimming over the soft, ticklish skin of his belly.

“Really?” he asks with amusement, not believing Arthur for a second.

“Y-yeah.”

“Hmm.” Merlin hums thoughtfully, moving his hands higher and pressing a hot, wet kiss to Arthur’s neck. “So it won’t come as a surprise if I tell you that I’ve been wanting to have my way with you since freshmen year?”

“What?” Arthur yelps, both at the admission, and at the searing heat of Merlin’s hand and lips on his skin.

“That’s when I first saw you,” he explains unhelpfully. “Gwaine made me go watch the stupid footie game and... there you were.” Arthur can hear the smile in his voice as he recalls the memory. It makes something in his chest flutter.

“It’s not stupid,” he objects weakly and tilts his head to the side to make more room for Merlin’s questing mouth, relentlessly kissing and sucking at the soft flesh of his neck.

“No, I don’t think so. Not anymore, at least.”

Suddenly, a realization dawns on him. “Wait. Have you been coming to the games all this time just to see me play?”

“ _Now_ you’re finally getting it,” Merlin says with humor. “Told you you’re oblivious.”

Arthur scowls at the accusation, but doesn’t really know how to contradict the statement.

Merlin wants him. He has wanted him for... holy shit, five years! 

In the back of his mind, he knows it should make him uncomfortable; that he’s been under the man’s radar all this time. As it is, he only feels strangely proud, and, gods, so unbelievably turned on.

He knows he looks good. He knows his reputation among other students. He knows he’s a catch. He’s had so many people look at him like they want to eat him up, but the fact only ever amused him.

Hearing Merlin talk like that, about wanting him like that, for so long, his desire evident in his voice and his touches - it most definitely doesn’t amuse him. Instead, it awakens something inside him.

“Why didn’t you...” He nearly chokes on his words when Merlin bites at the tendon where the neck meets the shoulder. God, he’s gonna have bruises later. “Why didn’t you s-say anything?”

Merlin laughs then, the sound amplified when so close to his ear. “Honestly? I thought you didn’t bat for my team.”

Oh. Oh, right. That’s right because... because... because Arthur _does not._

“Oh.”

Merlin extracts his hand from under his tee, and Arthur already mourns the loss, but doesn’t have time to dwell on it because in the next second, Merlin grabs him by the hips and twirls him around until they are face to face, then proceeds to do a 180 and press Arthur to the door, nearly knocking all the breath out of him despite the impact not being all that forceful.

“I can’t even begin to explain how delighted I am to have been wrong.”

That’s all Arthur gets before Merlin’s lips are on his, sure and demanding, and it should feel all wrong, feeling the barely-there stubble of Merlin’s jaw and chin rub against his skin, but in fact, it’s the exact opposite.

He’s never been kissed like that, so hungry and possessive, as though Merlin has been starving for it. For _him._ And maybe he has. Maybe he wasn’t exaggerating when he told Arthur how much he’d craved to have him like this.

The thought has Arthur moan into the kiss, and without knowing what he’s doing, he’s lifting his arms and sliding his fingers into Merlin’s hair, pulling at the surprisingly silky strands to keep him in place. It’s not like Merlin wants to go anywhere, though. He seems happy to plunder Arthur’s mouth, grunting and humming between the kisses, and it’s not long before Arthur decides to fuck it and throw himself into it until he can’t think anymore.

Merlin is dominating the kiss but Arthur refuses to give up on control so easy. He’s here to prove that he’s better at this than Merlin. _Yeah, exactly._ It then becomes a battle of sorts, the push and pull of their lips and tongues, hands all over each other.

“Fuck,” Merlin mutters breathlessly when they pull apart to take in a lungful of air. He sounds wrecked, and it has Arthur bursting with pride. He hopes his gloating is not too obvious. “God, I’m so pissed off right now.” He sounds almost pained. “I swear, Arthur, if I knew I had a shot at you, I would have bent you over the nearest surface and fuck you until you were begging ages ago.”

At that, Arthur’s body locks up with tension, but to his complete mortification, a pitiful whimper escapes him. Merlin grows alert, scanning over Arthur’s face in hopes to find... something. Whatever it is, he must have found it because his whole expression shifts, and Arthur fights the urge to hide himself from his burning gaze. His other part, the one that’s so annoyingly on board with everything Merlin has said or done so far, wants to lay himself bare for Merlin and let him have his way with Arthur.

“Arthur,” he says, and Arthur feels his cock twitch and spurt out precome, and he blushes fiercely. Why does Merlin saying his name have such an effect on him? “Can I fuck you?”

_No. Absolutely not! No way in hell am I gonna let this nerd plow my virgin ass._

“Yeah.”

_What. The. FUCK?!_

Merlin’s face splits on a wide grin, and before Arthur has a chance to process what just happened, Merlin’s dropping to his knees and making a short process with Arthur’s jeans, keening in delight when he takes notice of the state Arthur’s in, straining against his briefs with a wet patch at the front. He pulls both down to his ankles and peers at Arthur from under his lashes, his irises consumed by black, and with one last, naughty grin, he leans forward to swallow Arthur down.

Arthur lets out a scream, throwing his head back and hitting it against the door. He whimpers at the impact and feels Merlin laugh a little around him. He wants to tell him off, but Merlin hollows his cheeks and _sucks_ , successfully ridding Arthur of all coherent thought. His hands find a way to Merlin’s hair again, anchoring him because he’s this close to losing it right there. Merlin doesn’t take notice of his internal turmoil and busies himself with turning Arthur’s brain into a puddle, taking him in, all the way to the root and swallowing around him, not minding one bit when Arthur can’t hold back and thrusts forward, hitting the back of Merlin’s throat.

_Holy shit, was he born without a gag-reflex?!_

Merlin positively gloats at Arthur’s inability to control himself and continues his ministrations until he has Arthur on the brink of coming, then removes his mouth, making him groan and whimper in protest.

Merlin’s smirk is almost evil when he looks up at him. Without a word, he prompts Arthur to lift one leg, then the other, pulling his shoes off, followed by the jeans and the briefs, until Arthur is clad only in his tee. Merlin raises back up and all but tears the last piece of clothing off of him, until Arthur is well and completely naked.

While Merlin hasn’t lost a single piece.

Arthur’s cock leaks at the picture.

“If you knew of all the things I wanna do to you, Arthur,” Merlin whispers like he’s sharing a secret before he claims Arthur’s lips again.

Unable to respond verbally, Arthur contents himself with tugging harshly at Merlin’s own T-shirt. Getting the memo, Merlin lifts his hands and Arthur helps him pull the thing off. His hands drop to the front of Merlin’s trousers and there, he hesitates. His knuckles brush against the bulge, and it finally hits Arthur what they’re about to do. What _he_ is about to do.

“Go ahead,” Merlin prompts. Arthur does his best to push through and starts undoing the trousers, surprised when his hands don’t shake nearly as much as he expected. He does a bit of a double take when he has them open only to find Merlin has gone commando.

“Shit,” he says without meaning to. He’s not sure whether it’s a reaction to Merlin’s lack of underwear, or that another man’s cock is so close to him, just a hair’s breadth from his hand, _or_ the fact he's even bigger than him. Or maybe all three, who knows.

_How the fuck is that even possible?! A skinny thing like him!_

Except when he finally takes time to look Merlin over properly, it turns out he’s not as skinny as he appears to be. While not as bulky and muscular as Arthur, he is all defined muscle, and the hard plains of his stomach are a contradiction to Arthur’s soft sides and belly. The fact only manages to irritate him.

While he’s looking his fill, Merlin makes use of the time to divest himself of the rest.

“Bedroom?” he suggests, and Arthur nods wordlessly. Merlin beams at him, taking his hand and leading him through the living room to the bedroom, letting go only to walk to the nightstand to switch the lamp on.

Bathed in the yellow light, Merlin looks almost etheral and _where the fuck did that come from?!_

Arthur is too consumed by his inner bitch-fit that he gasps when he spots a bottle of lube and a condom in Merlin’s hands, unaware that he even looked for those. He ignores the simmering anticipation as he imagines what Merlin is gonna do with those.

Merlin smiles at him, excited and oblivious. He jerks his head in the direction of the bed. “Make yourself comfy, Arthur.”

Arthur ignores the urge to flee and with a steadying breath, he complies, climbing on the bed and flipping onto his back.

Merlin gives him another pleased smile, following suit, and he sits himself at the foot of the bed. He throws the condom on the bed and uncaps the lube, about to squeeze some on his fingers.

“Wait!” Arthur blurts out, and Merlin halts all his movement, regarding Arthur with worry, so different to how confident he’s been until now.

What the hell is he doing? He’s come here, with Merlin, to prove that he’s better in bed than him, no matter what others say. But what has he done so far? He’s managed to do some snogging and successfully undressed Merlin without spiraling into a panic attack, and then what? As much as he hates to admit it, Merlin is leading right now and Arthur definitely can’t have that.

Before Merlin can start questioning him, Arthur sits up, taking the lube from Merlin and dumping it next to the condom, then takes Merlin by the wrist and maneuvers him until he’s the one lying on his back with Arthur hovering above him.

“I’m not finished with you, yet,” he says with confidence he doesn’t feel, satisfied when Merlin’s eyes grow wider, breath hitching, and he grips at the sheets. Encouraged by the response, he slides lower on the bed until he’s level with Merlin’s crotch, his heart speeding up at the proximity. He can’t believe what he’s about to do, but there’s a reason why he came here, isn’t there? And maybe it won’t be so bad. Merlin’s cock looks quite delicious and _what the fuck, Arthur?!_

He nearly backs out, appalled by his own thoughts, when a hand tangles his hair, pulling him forward slightly.

“Well then, gorgeous, go ahead. I want to see those sinful lips stretched around my cock.”

A part of Arthur wants to chastise Merlin for speaking to him like he’s just some dirty cock-slut, but he finds his mouth occupied as he takes Merlin in without realizing he’s moved.

_Oh my God, I have a cock in my mouth, I have Merlin’s cock in my mouth! Shit, shit, shit!_

Merlin moans appreciatively as Arthur’s heat envelopes him and he pulls at his hair even more. Arthur lets out a moan of his own before he can stop himself.

“Fuck, yes,” Merlin hisses through his teeth. “Go on, Arthur, suck my cock.”

Arthur doesn’t know what possesses him, whether it’s the command in Merlin’s voice or his own determination to prove himself, but he does just as he’s told. He refuses to let his inexperience show and opens wide, as much as he can, then slides his mouth lower, lower, until he can’t go further and wraps the rest of Merlin in his hand. He takes a few breaths through his nose to collect himself and starts sucking Merlin as instructed.

He finds it not nearly as difficult as he thought - _or maybe I'm just a natural, heh -_ and it’s with that thought that he picks up the pace, hollowing his cheeks,just like he saw Merlin do, and sets up a new rhythm. He licks around the head and the slit whenever he gets to the top, and while the taste of precome is quite bitter on his tongue he doesn’t find it off-putting at all. It must be because it just shows how much Merlin is enjoying himself, a further proof that Arthur _is_ better than him. Yeah, that’s the only reason. There’s no other reason why he should enjoy blowing Merlin this much otherwise, absolutely no reason.

He’s not sure how long he’s been at it, but it must be longer than he thinks because Merlin starts pulling at his hair again, only this time it’s to pry him off.

“Arthur,” he breathes, his chest heaving. “That’s enough.”

Arthur makes a sound of displeasure and ignores Merlin’s command. He lets him slip out of his mouth only to start running his tongue over the underside, from base to top, and wraps his lips over the head, sucking gently.

“Arthur!” Merlin says more sternly. “Stop. You have to stop.” He pulls hard enough that it makes Arthur wince, and regretfully he lets go of Merlin’s cock, looking up at him. He does his best to seem unaffected, but on the inside he positively beams with pride at seeing Merlin so debauched, just from having Arthur’s mouth on him.

_Well, what did I say?_

“Are you trying to kill me?” Merlin huffs.

“Why? Are you saying you can’t handle it?” Arthur shoots back, smirking in victory, then gulps when he sees Merlin’s face transform into a more predatory one.

Between one blink and the next, Merlin grabs him by the arms and hoists him up, then rolls to the side so he’s no longer under him. Arthur doesn’t know what exactly Merlin does, or how, but it’s only a few pushes and pulls before he finds himself on all fours, feeling the heat of Merlin’s body as he kneels right behind him. He turns his head to look over his shoulder to see what Merlin’s doing, and it’s just in time to witness him squeeze a generous amount of lube on his fingers and reach them towards Arthur’s backside.

He jumps at the first touch to his entrance, as he knew he would. _Why did I say yes to this again?_

“Easy, now,” Merlin soothes, propping himself with one hand next to Arthur so he can lean over him to kiss at his nape and upper back. “I’ll make it good for you, Arthur. So, so good.”

Arthur knows he should want the opposite - he should want Merlin to be terrible at this, utterly incompetent. But in his current predicament, he’s forced to admit he very much wants Merlin to make good on his promise.

It’s with that thought that he spreads his knees wider and pushes his ass back. “You’d better, Merlin." He hopes to sound demanding, one last attempt at resisting what’s happening right now. It sounds weak even to his own ears.

“Hmm, bossy, are we?” Merlin comments as he bites gently at his shoulder. “I like it.”

As though to back up the statement, the finger that has been rubbing small circles around Arthur’s hole presses forward. Once more, Arthur tenses, holding his breath.

“Breathe, Arthur. And relax for me,” Merlin instructs patiently, not at all annoyed that he needs to coax Arthur into relaxing. Arthur has to give him that - if it were him, he would just give up. Sweet-talking his hook ups is not exactly up his alley.

He exhales in a whoosh, slumping slightly in his position, and takes a few breaths in and out, just like Merlin told him. It must indeed relax him because the next time Merlin increases the pressure of his finger against his hole, it slips in up to the second knuckle, and Arthur is dumbfounded to find it painless. Sure, it feels weird as fuck, alien and a little wrong. But not painful.

“Okay?” Merlin checks with him, and it comes as surprise to Arthur that he sounds breathless himself. If Arthur wasn’t so preoccupied with getting used to having something up his ass, he would probably find it flattering.

“Y-yeah.”

“Okay. Just keep breathing and let me do the hard work, yeah?”

Arthur nods and focuses on breathing, slow and deep, trying not to pay attention to the weird feeling of Merlin’s finger moving inside him. It’s a few minutes before there is a pressure at his entrance again, Merlin pushing two fingers in at once.

Arthur keeps telling himself not to tense up, to just keep breathing, and despite his doubts, it must work because although the stretch is definitely more pronounced now, it’s not as bad as he feared. Actually, if he’s honest with himself - which he really doesn’t fancy doing - it almost feels good. There something a little magical about the way Merlin works him open, his long fingers gentle but insistent as they push and twist.

At some point, Arthur starts noticing a new but pleasant sensation that intensifies every time Merlin crooks the fingers downward, and then, out of nowhere, he does just that and _pushes_ and Arthur nearly face-plants into the pillow.

“Oh God. Wha-?” he groans and without meaning to, he pushes his ass back, driving Merlin’s fingers deeper, chasing whatever just happened to him.

“You liked that?” Merlin asks unnecessarily, way too pleased with himself to Arthur’s liking.

“S-shut up,” he grumbles weakly, spreading his legs even wider. He hears a resounding groan from behind him.

“Shit, Arthur. If you could see yourself right now. I’ve never seen anything so sexy in my life.” He emphasizes that with hitting that sweet spot again, and Arthur is this close to sobbing but that’s never gonna happen. Nope. Never.

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” he confesses, adding a third finger. Arthur wishes he would just shut up. How is he supposed to hold himself together with all the dirty talk?!

Even as he thinks that, he moans as three fingers fill him up. This time, it burns a little, but Merlin keeps rubbing at the spot and it’s enough to distract Arthur so he doesn’t even care.

Just when he thinks he can’t take this anymore, that he’s gonna lose it and come just from Merlin’s fingers, Merlin pulls out, leaving him empty. Arthur hisses as the cool air hits his sensitive rim, clenching around nothing.

Behind him, he hears Merlin tear the condom packet open. There’s a pause, and then the head of Merlin’s cock presses between his cheeks, and fuck, that’s way bigger than his fingers.

“Ready, gorgeous?” Merlin asks, rubbing his cock along the cleft of Arthur’s bum, waiting for permission.

Arthur nearly nods, too desperate for the feeling of emptiness to disappear when he remembers why he’s here in the first place.

Shit, this has gotten way out of hand! He’s supposed to be the one in control! The one to make Merlin lose it.

“Wait,” he says instead and feels Merlin freeze up in his position.

“Arthur, are you-?”

Before he can finish, Arthur reaches behind himself to find Merlin’s hand, grasping at his wrist and pulling him to the side. Merlin goes willingly, lets Arthur adjust him as he sees fit, which, eventually, ends up with him on his back and Arthur straddling him. His eyes are wide as he takes in the picture Arthur makes above him, all golden and beautiful.

“I want to be on top,” Arthur explains the obvious and in lieu of an answer, Merlin’s hands find his hips, hitching him higher until Merlin’s cock is nestled between his cheeks.

“Gonna ride me, cowboy?” he smirks at him, and Arthur rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, Merlin,” he replies, rising on his knees and reaching behind for Merlin’s cock, keeping him upright until he feels the head press against his hole. He hesitates for a second, frozen in place, and he knows that Merlin notices, his eyes softening and thumbs caressing over his hip bones. He sees him open his mouth to say something, but before he can, Arthur lets himself sink down.

The pressure at his hole is almost unbearable and he nearly gives up, but suddenly, Merlin bucks up slightly, probably from pure reflex, and it’s enough that the head pops in, and from there it’s easier to take the rest of Merlin. Not easy, but easier.

He releases a shuddering breath when he sits flush with Merlin’s hips and upper thighs, taking a few moments to process the incredible feeling of being filled like this.

“Fuck, Arthur. You feel incredible. So fucking tight.” Merlin sounds almost pained, and while being otherwise occupied, Arthur does an internal fist pump. Finally, he’s getting some points.

Hearing Merlin so gone is enough of a boost to gather up everything he’s seen in porn and tried with girls, and put it to good use. He lifts himself up and slides down slowly. Then up again, then down again. Slow and languid. It’s a win-win because while it gives him time to get used to the feeling and the movement, it also has Merlin biting at his lip, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back, and Arthur is mesmerized by the way the tendons and muscles of his neck pop out.

He doesn’t realize he’s outright staring until Merlin’s eyes shoot open and catch him red-handed. A smirk spreads across his lips and Arthur feels his face heat up. He wants to say something, to defend himself, but all the breath is knocked out of him when Merlin snaps his hips up while pulling Arthur down and grinding into him. Arthur screams uncontrollably as Merlin hits that spot again full force, and has to steady himself with a hand to Merlin’s thigh.

“Come on, Arthur. Show me what you’ve got and fuck yourself on my cock.”

Despite his initial impulse to defy that order, he ends up doing just that. He speeds up, pushing himself forward to brace himself against Merlin’s chest. To his pleasant surprise, the new angle gets Merlin’s cock _exactly_ to that spot, and it’s enough motivation for him to show Merlin just how much he’s got.

His thighs start to burn only a couple minutes in, and he sends a stray apology to every girl who’s done this to him and didn’t complain about the strain once. Too proud to say anything himself, he continues his ministrations, bouncing on Merlin’s cock, Merlin meeting him halfway.

However, Merlin being perceptive as ever, picks up on his struggle and decides to take matters into his own hands. He lifts Arthur off of him with such ease it has Arthur gaping at him, and flips him onto his back, fitting himself between his thighs and sliding back inside in one smooth push.

Arthur doesn’t say anything, but the appreciative groan when his legs get a break must be a pretty good tell nonetheless. Merlin hooks his hands behind Arthur’s knees and pushes his legs to his chest, opening him further and thus allowing his cock to slide impossibly deeper, even though Arthur didn't think it possible.

“Fuck. Fuck, Arthur. So good. So fucking good.”

Arthur moans in agreement and hooks his own hands behind his knees, helping Merlin in return. He’s rewarded with a wicked smile.

“I swear, Arthur, you’re sex personified. If I could, I would have you against every single surface of this flat. Over and over again.” He punctuates each word with a snap of his hips and Arthur has no idea how he can sound so controlled, so coherent while pounding his ass, but he doesn’t really care.

“Or maybe I can. What do you say, Arthur? Would you like that?”

Arthur’s brain is too hazy to let him think clearly. He’s only half-aware of what Merlin’s asking and supposes that agreement is a way to go, so he nods.

It works because Merlin starts fucking him even harder, wild and unhinged. Arthur stopped breathing properly some time ago, and now he’s just huffing and gasping whenever he manages to get some air in his lungs.

It’s not long before he feels a familiar heat pooling low in his belly, and he turns nearly frantic with realization that if he doesn’t do something now, he’s gonna come first, and he’s gonna lose. Quickly, he switches his brain on again in a desperate attempt to come up with a new plan, but it’s a lost battle when Merlin wraps his large hand around Arthur’s cock, and it takes barely half a dozen of strokes before Arthur’s screaming, thick ropes shooting over his stomach and Merlin’s hand. He groans both in pleasure and frustration. _This was not supposed to happen._

He seizes his chance when Merlin pulls himself out and tears the condom off, taking himself in the same hand that just got Arthur off, and stripping his cock rapidly.

Acting as quick as he can, Arthur reaches for his wrist, the one that’s attached to the hand holding his cock, stilling the movement. Merlin looks at him questioningly, a bit frustrated himself, but lets Arthur pull him forward so he’s straddling his chest.

His eyes grow wide when the realization sinks in, and Arthur holds his gaze as he opens his mouth, making it obvious what he wants him to do. Merlin doesn’t hesitate to shuffle a bit higher and push his cock into Arthur’s waiting mouth. He sighs contentedly as Arthur’s wet heat engulfs him and fucks Arthur’s mouth with tiny, jerky movements. Arthur doesn’t really need to do anything except take it, and it suits him just fine.

It’s not long before Merlin starts shaking above him, a proof of how close to the precipice he’s been all this time. Arthur feels him swell on his tongue and halts his movement when he accurately predicts Merlin’s attempt to pull out again. He keeps him in place with hands to his butt, and then Merlin is letting out a hoarse cry as the salty-bitter taste of come explodes on Arthur’s tongue. He does his best to swallow everything down, although he fails miserably, feeling some of it run down his chin.

Merlin’s already starting to go soft when Arthur releases him from his swollen lips. He takes one look at the mess on his face, smiling sheepishly and carefully extracting himself from the position. He bends down to press a kiss to Arthur’s forehead, and slides off the bed.

“Be right back,” he promises and runs to what Arthur assumes is the bathroom. He comes back shortly, just as promised, a wet cloth in his hand, and cleans the come off of Arthur’s face and his stomach. Arthur, too weak to do anything, only lies there and lets him do whatever he wants. He’s too busy freaking out because... because... he’s lost. Hasn’t he? This whole thing was a bust.

Merlin flops down next to him, brushing his hair off his forehead, prompting him to roll on his side so they are facing each other.

“Holy shit, I’ve never come so hard in my life,” he says with unconcealed wonder, and a spark of hope flickers in Arthur’s chest.

_Maybe it’s a tie?_

Merlin reaches over to the nightstand to switch off the light, and it dawns on Arthur it’s time to make his leave. He only manages to prop himself up on his elbows when Merlin speaks again.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m... I should probably go?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Arthur. I just fucked your brains out.”

Arthur lets out an indignant squeal, preparing a retort, but Merlin beats him to it.

“You don’t even have a car here. Stay the night, I’ll make breakfast in the morning and drive you home.”

“But-”

“Arthur.” Merlin huffs impatiently. “Go. To. Sleep.”

Reluctantly, Arthur lets Merlin pull him into a loose embrace. He’s sure he won’t get a single second of a shut-eye, but to his utter bewilderment, he blacks out almost immediately, Merlin’s steady breathing and the soft _thudump_ of his heart a lullaby putting him to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny how I thought the previous chapter was just shameless porn, lol
> 
> I swear, I was planning on starting on a new, angsty, fluffy story but this monster came out instead
> 
> Not my fault! 
> 
> Enjoy :D

The following morning marks the first time in his life Arthur has woken up to the smell of breakfast being cooked. At first, it’s pleasant, tickling his nose in the best way but the peaceful moment is short-lived as Arthur finally becomes aware of the unfamiliarity of it.

His eyes snap open and he shoots up into a sitting position on his bed. Wait...

No. Not his bed. Not even his room.

_Oh, crap._

As the events of the last night come back to him, he starts searching for a way of escape. He’s willing to climb out of the window just so he doesn’t have to come face-to-face with Merlin and do a walk of shame.

However, odds are not in his favor. That is, unless he’s willing to break something, possibly his neck. He’s far from remembering all the details, he was too busy not running for the hills as Merlin led him to his flat, but he’s about 80% certain the flat is at least on the third floor, if not higher. And Arthur plays bloody footie, he’s not a fucking parkourist.

Surrendering to the shitty situation he’s found himself in - and yeah, fine, he knows it’s all his doing, so shut up! - he gets out of the bed and starts looking for his clothes. He stills when he spots it in a neat pile on a chair next to the bed.

That’s... weird. Because that would mean that Merlin went out of his way to make it easier on Arthur. Now that he thinks about it, of course that’s exactly what it means! They’d lost their clothes even before they got to the bedroom, there’s no other way it could have gotten there.

He doesn’t know why, but the implication makes his stomach flutter strangely. He’s probably just hungry.

Speaking of which, Merlin must be cooking breakfast just as he said he would. Before _he made Arthur_ spend the night. Arthur would have been happy to get our of Merlin’s hair the minute they were finished. He knows not to impose on other people. But Merlin insisted so... yeah...

His briefs are on top of the pile so he puts those on first, then his socks, followed by the jeans. The T-shirt is the only thing left and as he’s pulling it over his head, he notices the fresh, cottony scent of it.

He takes a little sniff of his underarm, growing even more confused. It’s not like he has an unpleasant BO in general and he always remembers to use deodorant anyway, but he’s also sure that after spending hours in an overheated pub and then sweating buckets while being a nervous wreck as he followed Merlin to his home... his tee should not smell like this.

_Oh my God, did the oddball wash my clothes?!_

Just the thought has Arthur groaning in embarrassment. That’s just so fucking weird.

Or maybe it’s not. Just as he said - Merlin is an oddball. There are probably weirder things the nerd gets up to.

_Yeah. An oddball who fucks like a porn-star._

_For fuck’s sake, shut up, brain!_

Red to the tips of his ears, he takes a steadying breath and makes his way to the kitchen, following his nose. As expected, Merlin is standing by the stove, a spatula in his hand as he stirs something on the pan. For a few seconds, Arthur doesn’t move, mesmerized by the picture the man makes, standing in his kitchen dressed in plain, grey sweatpants and a blue tee, his hair a disarray which is obvious even from afar.

The fluttery feeling is back and it only serves to confuse Arthur further.

Merlin turns around then, still holding the spatula. His eyes grow in size as he spots Arthur, motionless and staring at him, then his gaze clears up and he grins, bright and wide and beautiful.

_The hell did that come from?!_

“Morning!” he greets with the same enthusiasm he always radiates. “Did you sleep well?”

Shit. He did, actually.

“I... ugh...” he licks his lips and nods, unable to form a response. “You washed my clothes,” he says instead. Merlin blinks at the abrupt change.

“Oh. Yeah. I thought it might be more comfortable for you?” he explains like a question. “Sorry, should I have not?” he asks and it sounds so fucking sad, a stupid thing like this, that Arthur immediately feels bad for bringing it up.

“No, that’s not... it’s okay. I... thanks.” He ducks his head, scratching at the back of his neck. “It just... surprised me.”

It must be the right thing to say because Merlin’s back to his chirpy self. “You’re welcome. It was no trouble, really.”

Fighting a blush, Arthur speaks again. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight,” Merlin replies, turning back to the stove to resume the stirring.

“How on earth did you manage to wash and dry my clothes and cook breakfast? How long have you been up?”

“Oh, that was easy. I go jogging every morning, around six. My laundry machine has a 15 minute refresh setting, so I used that while I was getting dressed and stuff. Then started the dryer for 45 minutes and went for a run. It was almost done when I came back. I took a shower and started on the breakfast.”

Arthur hurts just thinking about doing so much in the morning. “That sounds like a lot of effort for a Saturday morning.”

Merlin chuckles. “I like to keep busy. If I get too comfortable, I tend to get lazy. And then it’s really hard to get back on track.” He switches the stove off and turns to Arthur, holding the whole pan. “I made scrambled eggs if you’re hungry. And toast. Sorry, I don’t have bacon but I have some avo if you’d like.”

“I... yes, I’m quite hungry, thank you,” he says. “And avo is fine.”

“Great,” Merlin smiles like Arthur just made his day. He gives Arthur a quick once over, looking like he just remembered something. “Oh, I didn’t even ask you if you wanted to shower first.”

Arthur wants to dismiss the offer. There’s no point in imposing even more than he has so far. It’s not like he made Merlin do anything, but it still doesn’t sit well with him. But he _could_ use a shower. He already has clean clothes on and he knows it would feel even better if he had a quick shower too.

“That would be nice, actually. Just a quick one. As long as you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” Merlin reassures, abandoning the eggs and walking over to where Arthur is standing. “Give me a sec and I’ll go grab a towel for you,” he explains as he walks past him, back to his bedroom, dragging his hand briefly over Arthur’s exposed arm. It sends goose-bumps all the way down to his fingertips.

Merlin returns not even a minute later and leads Arthur to the bathroom, switching the light on. “I think I’ve got a spare toothbrush too. I just bought a three-pack.” He rummages through the drawer under the sink, letting out a victorious sound. “Aha! Found it.” He beams at Arthur. “Want the red one or the green one?”

“Red,” Arthur answers automatically. What the hell does it even matter, it’s not like he’s gonna use it more than once.

Merlin puts the toothbrush by the sink and walks to the door. “You’re welcome to use whatever product is there. Holler if you need anything,” he says and closes the door, leaving speechless Arthur to his own devices.

This is all too much to process in the morning without having already dosed himself with caffeine. Instead of pondering it, he grabs the toothbrush and the toothpaste, cleaning his teeth furiously.

He takes a leak before shrugging his clothes off and climbing in the shower-stall, making good on his word and taking his shower hot and quick. He squeezes some of Merlin’s shower gel - of course it would be _vegan, 99% natural ingredients,_ God - and starts scrubbing at his skin.

For the first time since he woke up, he realizes he’s actually _aching_ in... certain places. Well, _a place._ The sensitivity as he cleans between his cheeks should make him annoyed and mortified because... because how could he let Merlin do that to him?!

But all he remembers is the rush he felt when he took Merlin inside himself. Oh God, _he took Merlin_ inside himself. He actually bloody climbed into the man’s lap and rode him like a bronco. _Shit. Shitshitshit!_

And he _is_ annoyed, he really is. And yes, he _is_ mortified. But... oh, fuck, he’s also getting hard.

_Fucking shit! What’s wrong with him?!_

Angry with himself, he washes the lather off and switches the water off, stepping out of the stall and drying himself furiously until his skin is all pink. His stomach grumbles, signaling that he’s already taking too long, so he throws the clothes on and steps out of the bathroom, coming back to the kitchen. Just this time, the smell of coffee overpowers any other smell in the room. It’s so blissful that even his stomach stops protesting at the emptiness.

“Just in time,” Merlin says proudly, filling the first of two cups with coffee and holding it to Arthur. “How do you take your coffee? Wait, do you even drink c-”

He doesn’t finish since Arthur makes a desperate grab for the cup and all but chugs half of the scalding liquid, groaning at the feeling.

Merlin’s mouth hangs open a little but then it stretches on a smile. “I think that’s answer enough. So, you take it black?”

“I don’t care. It¨s coffee. It’s life.”

The sound Merlin makes can only be described as a giggle. “Junkie,” he teases. “Take a seat, I’ll plate up for you.”

“You don’t have to--”

“Take a seat, Arthur,” he commands, so similar to how he did last night. Arthur knows he’s blushing, too stunned to speak, so he does as told and sits in one of the chairs at the table. Merlin soon puts a loaded plate in front of him, doing the same for himself and he puts two sugars and a little milk in his coffee.

Arthur already feels awkward as it is, but he thinks he should at least say something. “Thank you. It looks great,” he clears his throat. “You didn’t have to do this, by the way.”

“I’m no chef but I’m pretty confident with whipping up a simple breakfast like this,” he waves a hand. “And I was happy to do this. I promised, anyway. And I promised to take you home too, so you can count on me.”

“You don’t h--”

“Arthur,” he says with more force. “I’m happy to do it. Really. Now, shut up and eat your breakfast,” he finishes and digs into his eggs, ignoring any more of Arthur’s protests. Arthur keeps grumbling under his breath and he knows Merlin must hear some of it, with the way he shakes his head and keeps smiling goofily and the easy, domestic vibe of it makes warmth spread in Arthur’s chest.

He pointedly ignores it.

The breakfast is, in fact, simple but Merlin must have done some mojo on it because Arthur’s sure scrambled eggs have never tasted this good. Even the coffee is exceptionally great and he makes a mental note to ask Merlin about the brand he uses.

They make some small-talk while eating and Arthur relaxes enough that he doesn’t feel like he wants to flee the flat the first chance he gets. If anything, he’s starting to feel comfortable like this.

Merlin has no idea about his inner turmoil, so it’s no surprise he doesn’t find the whole set up as strange as Arthur does. Speaking of which, Arthur wonders how often Merlin does this. Makes breakfast for his one-night stands, washes their clothes and offers a ride home.

His chest clenches unpleasantly. He must have eaten so quick it’s giving him a heart burn now.

Finishing off his plate, he decides to ask. Just out of curiosity. “Do you always do this?”

“What?”

“This,” Arthur gestures unhelpfully over the table.

“I make myself breakfast every day if that’s what you mean,” he answers carefully.

Arthur face-palms internally. “No, it’s not. I mean... do you always do this for your...” S _ay it. Say it as it is,_ ”for your hook-ups?” It sounds all wrong but it’s the truth. He doesn’t know why he hates it so much.

Merlin stares at him, blankly at first, then more focused. “Oh,” he says. “I... don’t, actually.”

The vice around Arthur’s heart releases its hold and he can breathe more freely.

“But then, no one ever stayed overnight.”

“What?!” Arthur squeals, already freaking out. There is a part of him that feels strangely proud and privileged, but it’s overshadowed by panic. “Why did you ask me to spend the night then?”

“Because I wanted you to stay,” Merlin says simply, expression open and God, it makes his eyes so fucking blue. “I wanted to do this for you.”

Arthur’s brows scrunch up in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I like you.”

Yeah, Arthur knows that. Merlin made it pretty clear yesterday, confessing to... well, having been _pining_ after Arthur for the whole time since he started uni. Still, it makes his cheeks burn.

“I... I know. You said so.”

Merlin huffs at that, leaning over the table so he can whisper even though they are the only ones in there. “I don’t think you get it, Arthur. I really, _really_ like you.”

Arthur shivers at the admission, rendered speechless.

“I mean, I’ve liked you for years. You already know that. And can you blame me? You’re like sex on legs, really.” Arthur feels the blood rushing to his face even more. “But after yesterday? After I got to finally talk to you properly? You have me wrapped around you finger, Arthur.”

Arthur’s breath hitches at the way Merlin’s voice drops impossibly lower the more he speaks. “H-how so?”

“I don’t know. It’s... a lot of things. A lot of little things, together.” He stands up, taking his empty plate and cutlery and coming around the table to take Arthur’s as well when he sees he’s finished with his breakfast. He takes those to the sink but forgoes washing them in favor of turning to face Arthur, leaning against the counter, and picks up where he left off. “I’ve always been attracted to you. But I knew close to nothing about you, except that you’re good in football and have girls falling at your feet. And that you’re a prat.”

“Hey!” Arthur defends, making Merlin laugh.

“Gwaine’s words, not mine.” Ah, yes, Gwaine. Arthur’s gonna gut the fucker. “But it turns out... you’re pretty great. You’re funny, and smart. And surprisingly, you’re really sweet.”

“I’m not sweet!” What the hell does that even mean?

“You are, though,” he laughs again.

Arthur lets out an affronted huff. It feels weird just sitting there and listening to Merlin talk like that. He stands up as well, grabbing his empty cup and carrying it over to the sink, only a foot away from Merlin. Shit, maybe he should’ve stayed put. 

“And you’re cute. And,” Merlin continues before Arthur can protest further, “I shouldn’t be surprised but you’re also a beast in the sheets.” And God, now he’s smirking and Arthur’s blushing. Again! “I’m not exaggerating when I say it was the best sex I’ve had.”

Oh. Oh! Now he’s talking! Finally, Arthur’s effort has proven fruitful. That’s what he wanted this whole time, wasn’t it?

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Merlin grins wickedly. He twists his body so he’s facing Arthur, looking relaxed and carefree while Arthur’s heart is beating a million beats per minute. _Not fair!_ “So I’m kinda hoping it wasn’t just a one off.”

Wait, is Merlin... is he suggesting what Arthur thinks he’s suggesting?

“I...” he chokes. What comes out next is completely out of his control. “Have you made the same offer to the others?”

“The others?” Merlin asks, confused.

“Um, yeah... you know... like Gwaine?”

_What the fuck is wrong with you?! What do you care?!_

To his bewilderment, the question draws a snort from the other man. “Gwaine? Gwaine is a friend, Arthur.”

“And yet, you fucked.” Even as the words leave him, he feels an intense urge to slap himself.

To confuse him further, Merlin just rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what that little shit told you but we just fooled around once. Just blowjobs, if you need to know. And I wasn’t completely sober.” He almost sounds regretful which makes Arthur inexplicably happy, although why he cares, he has no idea. He restrains himself from quoting Gwaine on what exactly he thought about them fooling around.

And isn’t that annoying, by the way? The fact that Gwaine was blown away (pun intended) by one drunk - and probably sloppy - blowjob from Merlin? Is Merlin better in the sack than Arthur even when he’s hammered?

The satisfaction Arthur felt upon Merlin’s admission about last night being the best sex of his life is very much nonexistent right now.

“And what about Mordred? Or Mithian? Or Freya?” Gosh, why is he still talking?

Merlin just stares at him at first, like Arthur is a riddle to solve. “Freya and I were dating for a couple of months. I thought you knew.”

Yeah, Arthur did. He does. What he doesn’t know is why he keeps asking stupid questions.

“And the other two?”

Merlin sighs before explaining. “I know I probably sound like a slag, when you put it like that. But things have been quite stressful lately and I needed an outlet. That’s all. ” He doesn’t elaborate on that and Arthur doesn’t pry. It’s really none of his business. Hell, Merlin is not his business at all.

Merlin shakes himself off, the solemn expression gone. Instead, he eyes Arthur with a glint. “You know, Arthur,” he leans closer, licking his lips and Arthur follows the movement before he can stop himself. “If I didn’t find it so unlikely, I would say you sound... jealous.”

Arthur doesn’t know if he wants to scream or wipe the smug look off of Merlin’s face. Probably both.

“Excuse me?!”

If anything, his reaction only encourages Merlin. “I’m not saying you are. Just that you sound like it.” _Is that supposed to make him feel better?_ “But,” he says. “If you _were..._ I would be forced to admit I find it very, very flattering.”

Despite his indignation, the low timber of Merlin’s voice sends a series of shivers down his spine. “I... I don’t...”

“Arthur,” Merlin breathes against his lips. _How did he get this close without Arthur noticing?_ “Do you remember what I asked yesterday? Do you remember your answer?”

“W-what?” A lot happened yesterday. A lot that Arthur wishes he could forget while knowing with absolute certainty he never will.

“I asked if I could have you again after last night. Against every single surface of this flat.”

God, did he really ask that? No, he couldn’t. Arthur would remember that! He--.

_“If I could, I would have you against every single surface in this flat. Over and over again. Or maybe I can. What do you say, Arthur? Would you like that?”_

Oh no.

Merlin places his hand - his large, warm hand - on Arthur’s hip, pulling him impossibly closer, his breath caressing over Arthur’s lips as he speaks. “Does your answer still stand?”

What answer? Arthur never gave him one. He would remember that. He would remember saying yes to something like that.

The memory slams into him like a tidal wave. _Shit._ No, he didn’t give Merlin a verbal answer. He didn’t because the man was pounding his ass so hard he could barely catch a breath, let alone form a word.

He didn’t say anything but he nodded. He fucking nodded to that! How could he do that, how could he--.

“Because if it does, I would love to cash in on it. Right now.”

_Hell no, it doesn’t!_

“N-now?”

“Yeah. Right here.” He brushes his lips against Arthur’s and Arthur can feel him smile. He doesn’t see him because at some point, he doesn’t know when, he closed his eyes. He can only feel the heat of Merlin’s body, can smell his intoxicating, _masculine_ scent. Can feel his own cock twitch in his jeans in response to all that stimuli. “I would bend you over this very counter, get on my knees and eat you out until you were all wet and open for me, just begging for my cock.” He chuckles when he hears Arthur whimper at that. “And I would give it to you, Arthur. I would give it to you so good you would come just on my cock.”

Fuck. Holy fucking shit, he’s hard! Just from hearing Merlin talk like that and it doesn’t make any sense because Arthur is not like that! He would never beg Merlin to fuck him, he would never beg for his cock. Never ever!

“So... does it?”

“Yes!”

Merlin spins him around and pushes him against the counter before he has time to take it back. Because it’s higher than his waist, he can’t bend over it in the ideal ninety degree angle, but it’s good enough that he rests his forearms and chest over it. He feels Merlin’s hard length press between his cheeks even through the several layers of fabric. He whimpers at the feeling and instinctively pushes his ass back.

He hears Merlin hiss behind him and suddenly, the man is pressing his chest against his back, mouthing at the salty skin of his neck. “I’m so hard for you, Arthur,” he moans right next to his ear. “Can you feel it?”

And what kind of question is that? Of-bloody-course he can feel it! With Merlin all but draping himself over him.

In lieu of an answer, he lets out a moan of his own.

“God, Arthur. If you knew half the things I wanna do to you,” Merlin confesses huskily, grazing his teeth over the burning skin.

In the back of his mind, Arthur knows this should freak him out. Have him run for the hills. The reality is much different though and the only thing he’s able to do is to arch his back in a beautiful curve, pushing against Merlin’s growing bulge.

“Fuck,” Merlin utters through gritted teeth, rubbing himself against him. It feels as though Merlin is everywhere, surrounding him completely with his touches, his smell, his words.

His hands scramble over the front of Arthur’s jeans, palming him through the thick fabric and Arthur is helpless to stop the reflexive thrusting of his hips, seeking Merlin’s touch.

“So eager. You want it, don’t you?” Merlin taunts, increasing the pressure on Arthur’s cock. Arthur only nods wordlessly. “Hmm. And you’ll have it. That, and so much more.” With that promise, he starts undoing the button and zipper, not wasting any time when it’s open and pulling both the jeans and the briefs down, over Arthur’s thighs, past his knees, all the way to his ankles, descending until he’s kneeling behind him.

Even as he grows impossibly harder, the image of himself in that position, completely on display, has Arthur wanting to curl in on himself and hide. Not that Merlin gives him a chance.

“Shit,” he hisses. “My knees are so going to hate me later but fuck if I care,” he comments with humor. “This is so worth it. Spread your legs, Arthur.”

There’s something about Merlin that compels Arthur to follow anything he might demand. He’s already suspected so, ever since he complied with all of his requests last night. He just didn’t know how strong the urge to submit to the man was. And now, it’s too late to question it.

He does as told, stepping his feet wider, as much as the clothes around his ankles allow him. Which is... not much, but more than enough to make Arthur burn with shame. He’s just grateful Merlin can’t see him.

“Fuck. You’re so fucking gorgeous, Arthur. You have no idea.” Is the last he hears before Merlin’s mouth becomes otherwise occupied. His hands grasp at his cheeks, pulling them apart and exposing him to Merlin’s eyes. And in the next second, Merlin’s tongue swipes over his hole.

“Fuuuck!” Arthur nearly jack-knives in his position and hisses in pain as his right knee hits a cupboard.

“Careful, Arthur. Don’t hurt yourself,” Merlin supplies unhelpfully.

“Give a guy a warning, will you?!” he complains even as he feels his cock leak, smearing precome against the cold surface.

“Oh, sorry, my bad,” Merlin replies but sounds the furthest thing away from apologetic. If anything, he sounds sarcastic. “I’m letting you know I’m about to eat your ass until you’re a wreck, and begging me to fuck you.”

And before he has time object, Merlin makes good on his words and dives in. His tongue is positively wicked as it glides over Arthur’s rim, alternating between short, maddening kitten licks and then switching to broad swipes. Occasionally, Merlin bites at the supple flesh of his cheeks. It draws embarrassing, nearly inhuman sounds from Arthur and he buries his face in his forearms, even as he pushes back against Merlin’s tongue. The scrape of the 5 o’clock shadow of his cheeks and chin has Arthur whimpering with over-stimulation. Whenever he thinks this is it, that it can’t go any further... he’s promptly proven wrong.

Merlin seems set on driving him to the brink of sanity and the noises coming from the man only make matters worse. Merlin sounds like he’s having time of his life, instead of kneeling on hard, cold tiles and rimming Arthur, as though it’s his life-purpose to drive Arthur crazy. Hell, for all he knows, maybe it is.

“M-Merlin,” he trips over the name. “Merlin, I... can’t...” He’s not sure what he’s trying to say but it doesn’t matter because it gets Merlin’s attention. It also has the (un)fortunate effect of Merlin’s mouth being nowhere near his ass now, and he feels equal parts disappointed and relieved.

He hears and feels Merlin stand up, pressing himself against Arthur, his clothed cock nestled snugly between Arthur’s cheeks. He whines at the contact, both overwhelming and delicious, and pushes back with his hips. Merlin grips him by those, a growl rising in his throat and he rubs himself against Arthur’s hole. Arthur all but sobs, hands balling up into fists.

“Fuck me,” he chokes out, not recognizing his voice. Actually, he doesn’t recognize himself at all. “Just... fuck me.” He attempts to spread his legs even further apart and finds it impossible, groaning in frustration.

“Fuck. You’re so fucking perfect, Arthur. Fuck.”

It soothes him somewhat that Merlin doesn’t sound any better than him. He reaches behind himself with one hand, finding Merlin’s thigh and pulling. “Now. Please, just... just put it in. Please, please...”

_God, what’s happening to him?_

“Fuck,” Merlin repeats. “Yeah. Yeah, just... let me just get stuff,” he says with a struggle and starts pulling away which only sends Arthur straight into a panic mode.

“No! No, don’t, just... you can just... I’m good. I can take it.” Fuck, he’s sure he would take anything right now.

Merlin’s groan is bordering on painful. “Shit. Arthur, I can’t just... we still need a condom.”

Arthur makes a noise of frustration. He knows Merlin’s right but he doesn’t have to like it. If anything, he’s this close to ordering Merlin to simply fuck him bare.

“Just hurry,” he says in resignation, whimpering when the heat of Merlin’s body disappears as he all but runs to the bedroom. Arthur tries not to think about how he must look right now, bent over the kitchen counter, jeans down to his ankles and ass on display. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long because Merlin comes _running back_ only seconds later.

“God, Arthur, I... I don’t think I’ll last long.”

Oh, thank fuck, he’s not the only one barely holding it together.

“Get on with it, then!” he bites out, making his irritation obvious.

Instead of chastising him, Merlin actually listens, coating his fingers in lube and bringing them to Arthur’s entrance. He doesn’t waste time testing the waters before pushing two fingers in at once. They slip in fairly easy, so easy, in fact, it has them both gasping for breath.

“Ah, shit,” Arthur bites his lip.

“Does it hurt? Are you sore from the--”

“ ‘m fine,” Arthur interrupts, even though he _is_ sore. It doesn’t really matter because if he doesn’t get Merlin inside in the next two minutes, he’s going to lose his fucking mind. “Just get in me already.”

_Oh, Arthur, this is a new low, even for you._

“Okay. Okay, just a sec,” Merlin mumbles, adding some more lube and swiftly working him open with three fingers now. It’s all too soon and not enough and quickly, Arthur starts losing his non-existent patience.

“Merlin...”

“Alright, alright. Jesus, you’re so fucking bossy,” he complains, although the smile is evident in his voice.

“Thought you liked it,” Arthur points out, taking a breath when he hears Merlin tearing the condom packet open. There is a pause as Merlin pulls his sweats down and rolls the condom on.

“Oh, I think you can feel just how much I like it,” he replies darkly as he presses the head of his cock against Arthur’s slick rim. Arthur grunts in affirmation and his gut clenches with want. “Tell me if it’s to much, okay?” he says, softer, accompanying his words with a caress to Arthur’s hips where his hands are gripping him again.

Arthur nods in agreement and is rewarded with Merlin pushing forward and filling him up with one smooth, long slide.

Arthur releases a shaky breath, both from relief and the feeling of fullness. Behind him, Merlin lets out a delicious little moan as Arthur’s heat envelopes him.

“God, Arthur, you feel even better than I remember,” he huffs in disbelief. “I’m definitely not gonna last.”

“Shut up, Merlin, and fuck me already.”

“Yes, your Highness,” he teases, taunting Arthur but not giving him a chance to retort back before he starts a punishing pace. Arthur grounds himself through his feet just in time to brace himself against the forceful thrusts. It occurs to him he’s gonna have bruises later, given how Merlin’s hands hold his hips with the force of a vice as he fucks into him, using the leverage to keep him firmly in place or pull him further on his cock.

“Yeah. Yeah, just... just like that. Fuck,” Arthur mumbles under his breath but it must be loud enough for Merlin to hear him because he begins snapping his hips even faster, even harder, the impact of his sharp hipbones against Arthur’s bare skin nearly painful, but in the best way possible.

He changes the angle, then, keeping one hand on Arthur and leaning forward, over him, bracing himself with the other hand against the edge of the counter. It’s the best thing he could have done because the shift sends the head of his cock directly against Arthur’s prostate, making him scream so loud he’s sure the neighbours must hear it.

“Ugh, Arthur. God, the sounds you make,” Merlin groans in pleasure, slowing down but also increasing the force of his thrusts.

“Fuck. Merlin! R-right there. God, keep doing t-that.”

And Merlin does, hitting the same spot with a bruising force and Arthur can’t do anything but lie there and take it. It¨s not like he would do anything even if he could.

“A-Arthur. I’m... gonna...”

“Yeah,” he moans wantonly. “Yeah, do it. Come inside me.”

_Oh, God, what did he just say that for?_

It’s almost as though Merlin was waiting for a permission because it’s only a few more seconds of relentless thrusting before he stills inside him, rolling and grinding his hips in little circles as he starts coming.

To his absolute shock, feeling Merlin swell and twitch inside him triggers Arthur’s orgasm and he has only a split second to bristle at the realization that he’s coming without a single touch to his cock. Then, all his thoughts are wiped out and he’s screaming wordlessly, shaking with the force of his orgasm and he slumps onto the counter, spent and loose-limbed.

“Holy shit,” is the first thing out of Merlin’s mouth and Arthur can relate. He rests his weight against Arthur’s back, pressing a kiss to it through his T-shirt. “I take it back. _This_ is the best sex I’ve had.”

Despite himself, and the situation, Arthur laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re incredible. I think you broke me.”

“Huh?”

“Broke me. Ruined me for anyone else.”

It’s probably weird, having a conversation while Merlin’s still buried inside him, but all he feels is the now familiar fluttering sensation and also... a sense of accomplishment.

_I should have recorded this._

_Jesus, Arthur, you’re so gross!_

“That mean you won’t be needing any more outlets?” he asks before he can stop himself and then, he just wishes the ground would open up and swallow him.

He hears Merlin chuckle. “Maybe I should find it alarming, how possessive you’ve become in such little time.” He starts pulling out, slowly, but Arthur winces all the same. “But I happen to like it.”

“You seem to like everything,” he comments absently, grateful when Merlin helps him pull his underwear and jeans up after he’s disposed of the condom and tucked himself in.

He presses a kiss to Arthur’s slightly sweaty hair, supporting him when he wobbles a little, trying to stay upright. “Maybe I just like you.”

Arthur rolls his eyes at the sappiness but his cheeks turn pink all the same. He can barely hold eye contact when he turns around to face the man who reduced him to shameless begging just minutes ago.

“Do you... have any plans for today?” Merlin asks, unsure.

“Nothing in particular. Why?”

To his utter shock, he sees Merlin blush too, rubbing the back of his neck.”I know I promised to drive you home. And I will, if you want me to. But I thought... if you’re not busy... and if you want.... we could, like... hang out? A little,” he finishes sheepishly and apparently shares Arthur’s inability to look him in the eye.

“Oh. Um...”

Merlin looks at him then, and Arthur sees his face fall. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Arthur wants laugh. And scream. And laugh. What an irony. “I understand if you don’t--”

“I’m not busy,” he rushes to say, earning a wide eyed look. “And... I would like that. Hang out, I mean.”

Slowly, Merlin’s expression shifts and soon, he’s beaming at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He’s surprised to find it true.

“Great!” Merlin exclaims happily and Arthur’s stomach does a series of somersaults. “Wanna watch something first?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. You like Sherlock?”

It’s Arthur’s turn to laugh. “I love Sherlock.”

“Oh, God, you really are bloody perfect.”

Merlin kisses him, the first kiss of that morning, and as he lets himself sink into his arms, Arthur thinks that despite this whole thing being such a mess, it’s not half-bad.

Pulling away, Merlin gives him a silly, toothy grin.

_Not bad at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might write another chapter, but probably won't get to it until next week. I'll do my best though ^.^


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is fried. I've been writing this monster since 11 am and it's almost midninght and fuck, I'm getting up for work in six hours so please, excuse any mistakes, I'm sure there's a bunch lol
> 
> Please, note that I love Gwaine with all my heart but he's such a good character to pick on :D

Arthur is screwed. And not even in the fun way. Well... maybe in the fun way, too, but mostly in the ‘what the fuck am I supposed to do now’ way.

It’s all Merlin’s fault, really. After he asked Arthur to stay on Saturday, he proceeded to be obnoxiously wonderful companion. Merlin’s sense of humor was right up his alley, he already knew that. It got even better after hours of binge-watching the first season of Sherlock, while listening to the never-ending string of smart-ass commentary, which - incredulously - was even funnier than the actual show.

The heated debate about Johnlock was just icing on the cake (“They are not gay, Merlin!” “No, but they are gay for each other.” “That’s not even a thing!” “It so is!”)

If the debate ended up with a heated, mutual handjob session, well... that didn’t have to mean anything.

Merlin ordered take-out for lunch, given that Arthur didn’t feel like going out, feeling and looking too disheveled to be comfortable around people right now. It turned out they both shared a love of Chinese, although Merlin spent about five minutes customizing his order to make it vegetarian. Arthur had known there must have been something wrong with the guy, that he had to have a flaw. And he was right!

Except it didn’t really matter. Arthur would eat plain lettuce for lunch if it meant he would get to spend some more time with the guy. The banter came as naturally as the sex did . But they had no trouble switching to more serious topics and eventually ended up discussing their studies, plans for the future, their part-time jobs and alike.

Being with Merlin was easy and Arthur soaked it up like rays of sunshine.

Shit. That was... a dangerous territory. Time to make his leave.

And he did. Though regretfully, Arthur asked Merlin to drive him home when they finished watching _The Hound of BBaskerville,_ explaining he had some studying to do - which wasn’t a lie. He couldn't believe he spent nearly a whole day with Merlin, realizing the time only when the sky started to turn orange.

He wasn’t sure whether he only imagined the disappointed look that flickered across Merlin’s face but it caused something to stir in his stomach all the same.

True to his word, Merlin granted his wish, finding his keys and leading Arthur to the car only minutes later. They barely exchanged any words during the short ride and Arthur felt a pang in his chest as he mourned the loss of the ever-present teasing.

So when Merlin stopped the car in front of his flat, Arthur immediately started unfastening the seat-belt, reaching for the door handle when, at the same time, Merlin unfastened his own and twisted to the left until he was facing Arthur. He didn’t give him a chance to react before grabbing Arthur by the back of his neck and pulling him into a deep, filthy kiss.

A startled whimper escaped him and although he had no idea how things had escalated so quickly, his body knew better and automatically adjusted his position so he could kiss back more coordinately. He was rewarded by a delicious moan from Merlin and all but threw himself into snogging the living daylights out of him.

He whined in protest when Merlin was the one to pull away, his lips following him even as Merlin put more space between them.

“Sorry. I didn’t expect this to get so... heated,” Merlin commented with a chuckle, his gaze locked on Arthur’s swollen lips, the skin around them red from the abrasion caused by Merlin’s stubble.

“Liar,” Arthur uttered with no heat.

“No, really,” he shook his head fondly. “It’s not like I was planning on ravaging you in the backseat or anything.” He watched curiously as Arthur’s mouth fell open on a gasp, his pulse quickening under Merlin’s hand on his neck. “Unless... you wanted me to,” he added darkly.

Arthur sputtered, too shocked to reply but his reaction must have said it all because Merlin just chuckled at his incoherence, placing one more, chaste kiss on his open lips.

“I’ll add it to my bucket list then.”

“You,” Arthur choked, “you have a bucket list?”

“Oh, yes. An extensive one.”

Arthur shuddered despite himself. “What’s... uh... the first item on the list?”

Merlin gave him an indulgent smile, as if he knew where Arthur’s mind had just gone. He probably did, Arthur wasn’t exactly subtle. “A dinner.”

A... a dinner? That was _so_ not what Arthur had expected.

“A dinner?” he repeated, getting an affirmative nod.

“Yeah.” He broke the eye-contact, losing some of his confidence and Arthur was reminded of the time earlier that day when Merlin had asked him to stay for a bit and how nervous he had become. For some reason, Arthur found it incredibly cute. “I know you said you have to study for your exams but I thought... maybe you could spare a couple of hours tomorrow?”

He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. Not only because he had meant it when had said he needed to study but especially because this sounded way too much like a... a date.

So it came as a shock when the first thing out of his mouth was, “I’d like that.”

He cursed at himself the second he said it but the way Merlin’s face lit up softened the blow. “Great! Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

He suddenly realized what a bad idea that was. Arthur was not gay! Everybody knew that. But what would people think if they saw them together - two blokes in a restaurant. And Merlin had no qualms about keeping the flirtation at bay.

That’s not to say they would necessarily run into someone they knew. Or at least someone who Arthur knew. But did he really wanna risk it? No, not really.

“Actually, would you mind if he had the dinner at yours?” He fully expected Merlin to question the suggestion and he did receive a rather confused look at first but then something flickered behind Merlin’s eyes and a grin appeared on his lips.

“You’ve become rather attached to my place, haven’t you?” he teased, his thumb rubbing under Arthur’s jaw in tiny circles and God, how long had his hand been there?

“I-...I don’t...”

“It’s alright, Arthur,” he comforted, “I like the idea. We can do that. I’m happy to cook for you again if there something in it for me too,” he added with a little, secretive grin that had Arthur gasping for air. Merlin’s boisterous laugh echoed in the confined space of the car. “I’m just teasing, Arthur. Take it easy.”

“R-right.” Arthur cleared his throat in hopes it would get rid of the tremble in his voice. “So... tomorrow?”

“Yeah. How’s 6 sound?”

“Sounds good.”

“Good. Any requests?”

“What?”

“Anything you’d like me to make? But please, keep it simple. I meant it when I said I’m no chef.” He laughed.

“Oh. No, not really. I’m not picky.” He thought for a second. “But maybe no mushrooms. Not a fan.”

“Noted,” Merlin reassured, removing his hand from Arthur’s neck and Arthur immediately felt the loss. “Shall I pick you up?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll drive myself.” Merlin had done so much for him already (including giving him three spectacular orgasms - _oh, God, shut it!_ ). Far it be from Arthur allowing him to be his chauffeur too.

“Whatever suits you,” Merlin agreed easily.

Silence fell over them for a while but this time, Arthur welcomed it. However, it wouldn’t be long before it became heavy and that’s the last thing Arthur wanted.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he broke the silence remorsefully, watching as Merlin visibly snapped out of his daze as well.

“See you,” he mumbled, barely audible and once more, his gaze fell on Arthur’s lips.

Arthur didn’t hesitate this time and promptly gave in to Merlin’s silent request by joining their lips in one last kiss, feeling accomplished when he pulled away only to find Merlin’s eyes glazed over, completely unfocused.

“Thank you for driving me. Good night, Merlin.” And without waiting for a reply - because he knew he had to get out of the car before he did something stupid - he found the door handle again and stepped out.

“Night, Arthur.” He heard before he shut the door and with one last, lingering look in Merlin’s direction, he made his way to the main door to let himself in.

*

So, yeah... Arthur is very much screwed. Not only because he _got screwed_ by a man - three times! - but also because he’s agreed on a date with him. Tonight. Which is... well... right now.

Or rather, in a few minutes. As soon as he mans up and gets his ass out of the car.

_For fuck’s sake, Arthur! If you can take it up the ass, you might as well have dinner with the guy!_

_Taking it up the ass was easier than this._

_Will you shut up?!_

Grumbling under his breath, he steps out and if the way he slams the door shut is a bit on the forceful side, well, it can’t be helped. He walks around the car to open the trunk and pulls out a six-pack of Budweiser - which is just another thing they both like.

Bracing himself up, he walks to the intercom and hits the button with Merlin’s name. He’s more than relieved when Merlin’s voice doesn’t come through to ask who it is. There’s just the buzzing sound of the door unlocking and he rushes to get inside. He considers taking the stairs but changes his mind as he becomes aware he’s already sweating under his shirt as it is. He calls for the elevator, tapping his foot nervously while he waits for it to arrive. He has no idea why the fact he’s having dinner with Merlin is so unsettling but whatever the reason, he realizes he must have spaced out because between one blink and the next, he finds himself standing in front of Merlin’s flat, knocking on the door which flies open almost immediately, revealing Merlin’s beaming face.

His breath catches at the image and he struggles to come up with a greeting but is saved by Merlin beating him to it.

“Hey! Impeccable timing, the timer just went off. Come on in.”

He steps over the threshold, closing the door behind him. He follows Merlin to the kitchen just in time to witness him bend over to pull something out of the oven. He nearly swallows his tongue as he watches the fabric of Merlin’s jeans stretch around his butt, successfully short-circuiting Arthur’s brain.

_What the fuck is wrong with you?!_

“I hope you’re okay with a touch of chilli. I forgot to ask yesterday.” Merlin’s voice startles him and he barely avoids getting caught staring at his ass as Merlin straightens up, holding a glass baking dish in his mitten covered hands. “Roasted veggie enchilada casserole!” He announces proudly and finally, the wonderful smell reaches Arthur’s nose.

“God, that smells good,” he says appreciatively, grateful there is something else to overtake his senses.

“I’m so relieved. I kinda experimented, to be honest,” he admits, putting the dish on the stove and taking off the mitts.

“And here I thought you’re no chef,” Arthur comments playfully, walking over to him and popping the six-pack on the counter. “I brought beer. I know wine is more fancy but I wasn’t sure you’d--”

“Oh, screw fancy. I’ll take beer any time,” he says, taking the case and putting it in the fridge. He tears the paper bind apart to extract two bottles and leaves the rest. “Want a glass?”

“No, I’m a big boy,” Arthur answers.

Merlin sweeps his gazes over him in a not-at-all concealed once-over. “That you are,” he smirks, earning a blush from Arthur.

To distract himself, Arthur nods to the casserole. “Can I help plating up?”

“Sure,” Merlin smiles. “The plates are in the cupboard to the left, the utensils in the second drawer in front of you.”

Arthur busies himself with plating up the meal, ignoring the subtle quake of his hands as he cuts the casserole into squares before landing one piece on each plate. He takes both to the table and comes back for the cutlery. He turns around just as Merlin’s opening the beers. Merlin walks over to where Arthur’s standing, offering him one and Arthur reaches for it.

Except when his hand closes around the bottle, Merlin doesn’t withdraw his own. Instead, he uses the point of contact to pull Arthur forward while he takes a step closer. Arthur rakes his gaze over Merlin’s face, finding only a small smile and affectionate eyes before everything becomes blurry the closer they get, and then there’s no space between them at all as Merlin takes Arthur’s lips in a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.

Arthur’s eyes flutter closed without his conscious decision as he lets himself get lost in the sensation of Merlin’s plush mouth against his. He relishes the fact they are pretty much the same height, because it makes everything just perfect.

All about this is perfect.

Merlin is just perfect.

He pulls away with a shocked gasp but Merlin must take it for a desperate search for air because he doesn’t seem discouraged at all.

“Just thought I should greet you properly,” he comments unhelpfully and removes his hand from the bottle. Arthur could do with a warning because he almost drops the thing and he definitely doesn’t need any more mess in his life.

“Right,” he says raspily. “Thanks?”

Merlin lets out a giggle and it’s not endearing. Not at all. Absolutely not. “You’re welcome,” he replies, pulling out a chair. “Are you hungry yet?”

It’s a simple and very relevant question but Arthur’s brain likes to mess with him so of course the wording sends his mind to inappropriate places.

“Yeah.” He manages to get out, breathing a little easier when Merlin steps away to sit himself at the table. He follows suit, taking the seat opposite him and gulps down a half of his beer. It earns a lifted eyebrow from Merlin but he doesn’t question it so Arthur doesn’t bother explaining himself.

“It looks as good as it smells,” he praises instead and it’s not even a lie.

“Thanks. Let’s hope it tastes like it too,” Merlin adds with humor and digs into his plate.

Arthur does the same and upon the first bite, he can affirm that it indeed tastes as good as he hoped, if not better. He tells Merlin so, his heart skipping a beat when Merlin positively vibrates with happiness at the praise.

Arthur ducks his head, focusing on his dinner just so he doesn’t have to be a witness to all annoyingly sweet expressions Merlin can create with his face. It helps only marginally because Merlin keeps the conversation going, asking Arthur questions. He forces himself to lock his eyes with Merlin every time he answers, simply because it's the right thing to do when talking to someone.

They take their time finishing off their plates and by the time they do, Arthur is way more relaxed than when he first sat down at the table. He doesn’t know if it’s Merlin’s magical cooking that does it, or if it’s the easy conversation they have, but he’s still grateful for it.

Merlin stands up to clear the plates off the table and Arthur follows him with the empty beer bottles, successfully locating the recycle bin.

“Care for another one?” Merlin suggests, already on his way to the fridge.

“Sure. Thanks,” Arthur agrees because he could definitely do with one more, despite feeling more at ease.

He’s walking back to the table when his phone vibrates in his pocket and he reaches for it absently. He falters a little when he opens the screen to reveal the sender, _and the nature_ of the message.

****Mithian** **

****18:52** **

****Hey, handsome ;)** **

****My brain is melting over the text-books and not in a good way *sigh*** **

****Could use a distraction if ur free xx** **

Shit. He didn’t see that coming. What is he supposed to do now? He’s never said no to an invitation like that. But he’s having dinner with Merlin and he can’t just leave out of the blue. But maybe he could come over to Mithian’s later?

His stomach twist unpleasantly just as the thought forms in his mind. That just feels so wrong.

Wait, why does it feel wrong? Why _should_ it feel wrong? That doesn’t make any sense.

He nearly drops the phone when Merlin drapes himself over Arthur’s back, propping his chin on his shoulder to look over it as he hands him an open beer.

“Who dares disturb you at this time?” he asks jokingly but all the mirth disappears from his voice in the next few seconds. Arthur realizes a little to late that he should have hidden the phone from him.

_Why should I have to hide it in the first place?!_

“Ah,” Merlin says in a deadpan voice and something about the lack of emotion makes Arthur feel as though the temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

“Um... sorry, it’s just...”

“Tell her you’re busy.”

“What?” Arthur yelps, both at the demand and at the feel of Merlin’s hand inching its way under his shirt to palm at the bare skin.

“Tell her you’re busy,” Merlin repeats, speaking directly in his ear, his full lips grazing the lobe and Arthur shivers against him, gripping his phone almost painfully. “Unless,” he continues, uncertain, “unless you wanna go?”

“I don’t want to go,” Arthur disagrees in one breath, not even having to think about the answer. Despite all his efforts to not get involved, it’s the truth - he doesn’t want to leave.

“You don’t?”

“No,” he assures. “I want to stay with you.” The words come out heavier with meaning than he expected but he doesn’t have the strength to take them back. Not with Merlin all over him, all around him.

“Thank God,” Merlin all but growls, grabbing Arthur’s hips to spin him around and push him against the table until the edge digs uncomfortably into his lower back. He grips Arthur by the back of his thighs and urges him to hop on top. When he does - because what other choice does he have? - he steps into the space it created for him and kisses Arthur possessively. It startles him so much he spills a good portion of the beer he forgot he’s still holding.

“Shit,” he complains against Merlin’s lips, Merlin’s breath caressing over his face as he huffs out a laugh.

“It’s fine,” he says, pulling away to look at him. “Text her.”

“Huh?”

“Text her you won’t be coming.”

“Oh, but I hope I _will be_ coming,” he shoots back before he can stop himself, grimacing internally when he hears how stupid that sounds.

Merlin laughs at that, loud and beautiful, giving Arthur a dark look. “Maybe if you’re good,” he promises and patiently waits for Arthur to send the text.

Arthur vibrates with excitement and a bit of nerves and quickly types out a reply before hitting _send._ The second he’s done, Merlin takes the phone from him and discards it somewhere on a chair before closing in on him once more.

Arthur stops him with a hand to his chest, getting a confused look. “Let me down,” he orders simply. Merlin steps back, but without further explanation, he only grows worried. It’s short-lived, however, when Arthur hops off of the table only to slide to his knees in front of Merlin, and then his face transforms from confusion to desire.

“Arthur.”

Arthur gives a full body shiver at the tone and swallows around the lump in his throat. He just hopes he doesn’t screw this up. At least it’s not his first time.

“I’d like to show you my gratitude for the delicious dinner you made,” he says playfully, referring to Merlin’s comment from the night before as they were sitting in his car.

“I-” Merlin hiccups when Arthur starts undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, placing one hand on his shoulder to steady himself. “I was just joking.”

“I’m not,” Arthur returns, tugging the jeans to reveal Merlin’s half-hard length. He comes to realize that wearing underwear is probably a foreign concept for Merlin and he’s surprised to find it as hot as he does. It does make the job easier though, so he might as well appreciate it. “But if you’re complaining...” He lets the rest of the sentence hang in the air and soon enough, there’s a hand tangling in his hair.

“Shut up, you tease,” Merlin grunts, suddenly impatient and _pulls_ , “and suck my cock.”

Arthur attempts to duck his head to hide the smug smirk at Merlin’s desperate tone but probably fails because Merlin’s hold on his hair is solid and it doesn’t allow him any movement but forward. He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, wrapping his hand around the base before he takes the whole length in his mouth, going until his lips meet his hand, letting him know this is the limit for now.

Merlin rewards him with an appreciative groan, throwing his head back to expose the pale skin of his throat.

Encouraged by the reaction, Arthur does his best to take Merlin apart with his mouth and tongue. He already knows what Merlin likes. Granted, he doesn’t remember all the details, because he was too busy freaking out the first time around but he contributes his current knowledge to muscle memory. He knows he’s right when Merlin lets out a string of curses as Arthur swirls his tongue around the head before sinking back down on his cock, then hollows his cheeks to create a powerful suction on his way back up.

He feels Merlin harden under his ministrations, delighted by the power he holds over the man just by using his mouth. He feels strangely proud and falters a little at the sinking realization that he wants to be good for Merlin.

Ignoring his thoughts - and it’s not that difficult anyway, since Merlin is moaning and groaning wantonly above him, clenching his hand in Arthur’s hair - he focuses on working past his gag-reflex, breathing only through his nose and doing his best to relax his throat. It’s no easy task but Arthur’s never backed down from a challenge and he’s not about to start now.

His effort and resilience is rewarded when the head of Merlin’s cock slides fully into his throat and while his body resists the intrusion to a degree, it’s not too bad and he manages to ignore his growing panic by paying attention to the noises Merlin makes, and the taste of him on Arthur’s tongue.

Maybe it’s the lack of air supply to his lungs but he thinks he must have spaced out at some point because out of nowhere, Merlin’s hips stutter and thrust forward, deep into Arthur’s throat and he stills, spilling himself in Arthur’s mouth.

Obviously, since Arthur wasn’t expecting that, he chokes and sputters as some of the comes makes it to his windpipe and takes a lungful of much needed air when Merlin swiftly pulls out in panic. He hasn’t stopped coming though and some of his release shoots over Arthur’s already messy lips and his cheek, adding to his wrecked appearance.

“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean to--” He untangles his hand from Arthur’s locks in favor of wiping the come off of his cheek with his thumb.

Arthur must be delirious because without thinking, he grabs Merlin by the wrist and turns his had to pop his thumb in his mouth, sucking it clean.

Merlin all but wheezes at the action. Arthur looks up at him, feeling shy all of sudden but relaxing when he’s met with Merlin’s blown-black eyes. “It’s okay,” he says hoarsely and it takes a few attempts to clear his throat enough to be able to speak. Regardless, he knows his voice is gonna sound fucked out for at least another day. “I liked it.”

“Oh, God,” Merlin squeezes his eyes shut and grabs Arthur by the arms to hoist him up. “Come here,” he orders gently and Arthur follows willingly. He lets Merlin kiss him on his come-streaked lips, finding it incredibly hot when Merlin only moans as he tastes himself on him.

One of Merlin’s hands slides over his front, making its way down until it comes to rest on the bulge straining the front of his jeans and Arthur jumps at the single touch, having forgotten not only he hasn’t come yet, but is so hard he’s on the brink of bursting.

Sure enough, even as Merlin attempts to get his jeans undone, it takes only a few rubs against his fabric covered cock to have him jerk forward, pressing into Merlin’s hand and he shudders violently as wetness grows in his briefs.

His eyes shoot open - when did he close them? - to find Merlin staring at him in shock even as his hand doesn’t stop working against him through his jeans.

“M-Merlin,” he whimpers, grabbing Merlin’s wrist to halt its movement because it’s becoming too much.

“Fuck,” Merlin utters. “Fuck,” he repeats. “That was so fucking hot.”

Arthur groans in annoyance. “More like embarrassing. I haven’t come in my pants since I was fifteen.”

“I’d apologize but I’m afraid it wouldn’t come out sincere,” Merlin teases, nosing at the exposed column of Arthur’s neck. “Let’s shower,” he suggests. “And I’ll wash your clothes for you.”

“Okay,” Arthur agrees easily because he can’t be bothered to think.

He doesn’t think as they clean up the spilled beer and the dishes.

He doesn’t think as they both strip themselves naked, Merlin collecting Arthur’s clothes and stuffing them in the washing machine.

He doesn’t think as they climb into the shower stall together.

He doesn’t think as Merlin cleans his back with a soapy cloth and doesn’t think as he returns the favor.

He only thinks a little when Merlin asks him to spend the night before he says _yes._

He thinks a bit more as they stand in front of the sink, still naked, brushing their teeth - because the toothbrush Merlin gave him yesterday is still there.

Merlin offers him spare pajamas for the night but the idea of dressing himself in anything that belongs to the man feels more intimate than climbing naked into the bed with him, so he refuses.

He makes his way to the bedroom, sliding under the blanket while Merlin sets up the machine for drying before he comes to the bedroom and joins Arthur in the bed.

And to his bewilderment, it’s the easiest thing in the world to switch his brain off when Merlin turns him on his side, making him the little spoon and burying his face in Arthur’s hair.

He only hears a mumbled _good night_ before darkness takes him.

* * *

It’s been a while since Arthur had a sexy dream. His mind has been too preoccupied with school, work and football. His sleep is mostly dreamless and if he does dream of anything, he doesn’t remember it come morning.

Plus, it’s not like he has a hard time finding a willing partner for some funny business hence, his mind has no need to conjure up scenarios to make up for lack of sex in his real life.

Nevertheless, he used to have them, especially before he attended uni and weirdly enough, he’s forgotten how good it could feel.

He’s vividly reminded of the fact as he feels phantom hands roam over his naked shoulders and back, traveling down his spine only to settle on his butt. Well, that is quite unusual - he doesn’t remember ever having a dream like that but who cares. It feels good at that’s all that matters.

The hands stay right there, each of them squeezing one butt-cheek and additionally, there are full, wet lips showering his nape with tender kisses. There is a foreign, raspy sensation accompanying them but he doesn’t pay it any mind. Dreams rarely have a logical explanation.

He moans softly and is not sure whether the sound echoes in the real world or not. The pillow under him feels solid and real and he can’t say if it really is or if his dream is so vivid but he’s too relaxed to think.

So when he feels the stranger’s lips trailing a path down as well, he doesn’t hesitate to roll onto his stomach properly to create more space. He instinctively rolls his hips against the mattress, seeking friction and it’s at that point he realizes he’s slowly waking up. Not completely out of the dream-land but not fully there either. He’s desperate for the dream to continue, hoping that his half-slumber is enough for his half-conscious mind to carry it out until he gets a happy end. 

The lips are at his lower back now, pressing into each vertebrae individually, until they reach his tailbone. Instead of stopping there, they continue their descend over the curve of his ass, grazing over the supple flesh of his cheeks, tentatively inching inwards.

Well, that’s... even more unusual.

Furthermore, the hands that had been curled around his hips possessively mimic the action, abandoning their place and Arthur feels a couple of fingers dip gently into the crease before his cheeks are spread apart and-

He jolts on the bed when he feels a wet sensation of a tongue swipe over his entrance.

“Wha-”

He doesn’t even finish the question before everything comes back to him. And suddenly, he’s fully awake.

Oh, God, how could he forget? He’s in Merlin’s flat, in Merlin’s bed! And he fell asleep with Merlin, he fell asleep _naked_ with Merlin and now Merlin is--

“Good morning.” Comes a mumbled greeting, not helping the matters at all.

Arthur doesn’t get another chance to ask again because the tongue - Merlin’s tongue - repeats the action, licking across his hole in confident, maddening swipes. Merlin starts humming at some point and the vibration of it travels through Arthur’s entire body, setting both his skin and insides on fire. He’s way too sleepy to process the situation, he just knows the basics:

That he slept with Merlin - actually slept with him - again.

That Merlin is currently eating him out like his life depends on it.

That it’s not enough. 

“Merlin,” he whimpers into the pillow, continuing the roll of his hips. “Merlin, s-stop.”

Merlin removes his mouth from Arthur’s ass but not his hands. Arthur feels him straighten up from his position and his worried voice comes next.

“Arthur? Is this okay? I’m sorry, I should have asked--”

“Fuck me,” he blurts out, hearing the hitch in Merlin’s breath.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he grumbles, annoyed. He hates repeating himself. He chooses to push his ass back instead, surely that must be invitation enough.

It is, judging by the way Merlin falters behind him, letting out a funny, choked off sound and all but throws himself to the side and forward, fumbling with the nightstand drawer until he extract a bottle of lube and a condom, shuffling back on his knees until he’s in his previous position.

If Arthur weren’t so wound tight already, he would laugh.

Since he is very much wound tight, he can only huff impatiently while Merlin struggles to squeeze the lube on his fingers and not all over the bed-spread. He makes use of the time and grabs Merlin’s pillow, digging his knees into the mattress until he can lift his hips high enough to slide it underneath them. He knows it pretty much has his ass on display but if he learned anything in the past two days, it’s that Merlin positively adores Arthur’s slutty side. Maybe it should make him ashamed, or worried or doubtful, but it only serves to drive him wild with want.

Merlin lets out a little surprised, a little delighted squeal as he takes Arthur’s prone body in. Arthur is basically offering himself to Merlin, no wonder the guy’s composure is crumbling.

Arthur won’t lie - he’s definitely smug about that.

The smugness doesn’t last long because Merlin has managed to gather his bearings, and now two of his lube-covered fingers are rubbing at Arthur’s hole before dipping in all at once.

“Aaah,” he hiccups, hoping to muffle his sounds with the pillow. The ease that Merlin’s fingers work him open with has his mind wander. Before the last Friday, Arthur had never been with a bloke. Most definitely hadn’t let one get anywhere near his precious backside. But give it a single weekend with Merlin and he’s basically open and ready to go with little prep.

If it weren’t so good, he would choose to die of mortification.

But since it _does_ feel good, he chooses to enjoy the ride as long as he can. Life is too short after all.

It barely takes a couple of minutes before Merlin has four fingers inside him and Arthur is slapping his hand away, prompting him to get to the really good part.

Merlin gets the memo and tears the condom packet open with his teeth, his hands too slippery for that. It’s only half a minute or so and then he’s draping himself over Arthur’s back, the head of his cock resting against Arthur’s entrance, forearms either side of him and Arthur spreads his legs apart to give him space.

“You’re so good for me,” Merlin mouths into his hair, pressing a kiss there and rolls his hips forward until he’s buried in Arthur’s tight heat.

“F-fuck,” Arthur breathes, both overwhelmed and relieved and finally gives up all the control and let’s Merlin do as he sees fit.

And there is a whole lot that Merlin does, starting with slow, long thrusts, every move languid and deliberate. Arthur enjoys that part more than he would think and the little huffing noises he produces are enough for Merlin to lose his composure even more and it’s not long before he’s picking up the pace. Even so, it’s more relaxed and tender than any of the shags before.

On one hand, it annoys Arthur because he’s desperate to finish but on the other hand, he absolutely relishes the unhurried tempo, building him up for the most intense crescendo he’s ever experienced.

In the end, he doesn’t have to wait that long because Merlin pushes himself up onto his hands and the new angle has his cock slamming into Arthur’s prostate on every thrusts. Combined with the friction the sheets and the pillow provide to his cock, it’s no wonder he comes first, his orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave. He screams Merlin’s name into the pillow, nearly sobbing when Merlin chases his own release with erratic snapping of his hips until he too comes to stillness, letting out a choked off noise that sounds suspiciously like Arthur’s name. He collapses on top of Arthur, earning a grunt from him and Arthur can only be thankful for Merlin’s slender stature.

They are both disgustingly sweaty and Arthur’s ass is throbbing and there’s a wet patch growing underneath him and he’s probably never felt better in his life.

“ _This_ is the best sex I’ve ever had,” Merlin says against the slippery skin of his back, earning an eye-roll.

“You _always_ say that after we have sex.”

“Because it just keeps getting better,” Merlin defends. “If you don’t want me to say it, you should stop being so good at it.”

It should make Arthur proud and accomplished, but he can only huff doubtfully. “I haven’t done anything. You’re the one who apparently has somnophilia kink. Which, by the way, you could have warned me.”

“Well, it’s 9 o’clock. I didn’t want you to be late for school so I decided to wake you up.”

“Most people wake other people up by telling them to wake up, or by shaking them awake. Not giving them a rimjob and fucking them into the mattress.”

“In my defence, I meant to let you finish with my tongue up your ass but _you_ asked for my cock, so...”

Arthur unsuccessfully fights the furious blush rising in his cheeks. “As if that makes it sound more reasonable!”

His petulant tone only makes Merlin laugh and Arthur to whimper when Merlin pulls out slowly, tying the condom off and binning it. He presses one more kiss to Arthur’s shoulder and prompts him to get up.

“Shower?”

“God, yes.”

“Okay, let me grab your clothes,” Merlin says and goes to fetch the clothes, running around the flat stark naked and with no shame. He comes back holding the pile of the clothes, a sheepish expression on his face. “They’re... ehm... kinda wrinkled? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

Arthur stares at the pile, rolling his eyes. “That’s what happens when you leave it in the machine overnight.” He cracks a smile. “I suppose you can be forgiven. I sucked your brain out after all.”

“That you did,” Merlin agrees, relived that Arthur’s not upset.

“It’s fine anyway. I need to go home first and get changed, and get my laptop and papers.”

“Will you make it?”

“Yeah, no problem. My first class starts at noon.”

“That’s good then.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, I don’t have classes today. I’m working.”

“Ah. Lucky you.”

“Shut up.” Merlin flips him off, ushering him to the bathroom.

They take the shower together again, then brush their teeth side by side and although it’s only the second time they’ve done this, it feels almost familiar.

It’s... nice.

“Wanna get together sometime this week?” Merlin asks when Arthur’s putting his shoes on, ready to leave.

“Sure. I’ll text you when I- wait.” He thinks. “I don’t have your number.”

“And I don’t have yours,” Merlin adds, amused and it throws Arthur for a loop, that they spent the weekend together, fucking each other’s brains out, but haven’t exchanged numbers.

Whatsmore, it’s not that unusual for Arthur to hook up with someone he’ll never see again but this... this feels different. He knows Merlin. He _is_ going to see him again at some point regardless. He _wants_ to see him again.

“Right. Give me your phone.”

Merlin hands it over and Arthur punches his number in and gives himself a ring.

“There. All set.”

“Thanks,” Merlin says and leans forward to peck Arthur on the lips.

“Um...”

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Merlin asks, hopeful, and how can Arthur fight the puppy look?

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Take care, Arthur.”

“You too, Merlin.”

He feels different the second the door to Merlin’s flat closes behind him. And not in a good way. Everything feels heavier and constricting, the exact opposite of what his time with Merlin was.

He hopes it will pass.

* * *

The whole week is admittedly weird. Arthur can’t completely pinpoint the reason but it is.

Not only is he not able to focus in his classes but he’s also confronted by Mithian on Monday, receiving a light-hearted scolding for leaving her hanging and condemning her to several hours of painful research the day before.

On Tuesday, he’s interrogated by Gwaine about his and Merlin’s untimely departure from the pub. Which is funny because if he really wanted to know that much, he would’ve texted Arthur first thing on Saturday. He was probably just sleeping off his hangover the whole weekend. So it’s not too hard to feed him some bullshit about being tired and Merlin offering to drive him home. Even if he’s red to the tips of his ears as he lies his way out. Gwaine only lets him go when he promises he will stay longer this upcoming Friday.

He and Merlin text back and forth most of the time but don’t have the opportunity to actually get together due to school and work but maybe it’s for the better. This whole thing has gotten way out of hand.

Merlin actually comes to the footie practice on Thursday, taking his usual seat on the bench and watching them (Arthur) play until they call it a day. He doesn’t attempt to talk to him though and Arthur’s equally relieved and disappointed by it. Given the situation, he’s most relieved.

Merlin talks to Gwaine though and for a moment, Arthur’s heart stops at the possibility Merlin might spill the beans. Thankfully, nothing in Gwaine’s behaviour suggests they are talking about him and he can breathe a bit easier.

It doesn’t last though because in a few minutes, Mordred approaches the pair, joining the conversation smoothly and Arthur can see his focus is mostly on Merlin. Furthermore, he keeps touching Merlin intermittently. A touch to his elbow here, a pat on the shoulder there and to top it off, he gives Merlin a half-hug before he leaves, all but burying his nose in Merlin’s neck.

Something unpleasant twists in his gut and without a word, he makes his way to the locker room, gathering his stuff and walking to the parking lot without bothering to change or shower. He can do that when he gets home anyway.

He ignores the heaviness in his chest for the rest of the day.

* * *

On Friday, Percy picks him up because he feels like having more than one beer. It’s been a weird week, he deserves it.

Leon is already waiting for them but Gwaine is nowhere to be found.

“He should be here any minute,” Leon promises. “He was just waiting for Merlin so they could come together.”

“He what?” If Arthur were drinking by now, the beer would be spattered over the whole table.

“Ah, there they are!” Leon announces, nodding his head somewhere behind them. Sure enough, Gwaine is approaching the table with Merlin in his tracks.

“Sorry, boys! You know I hate making you wait,” Gwaine exclaims joyously, not at all sorry but Arthur doesn’t pay him any mind, too occupied watching Merlin since he can’t believe he’s really there.

“Heya,” Merlin says and Arthur realizes it’s directed at him.

“H-hi,” he sputters, barely hearing anything over the blood rushing in his ears.

This is a disaster.

“You look a bit... white.” Merlin notices. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just... I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Oh,” Merlin says, then spreads his arms and gives him a crooked smile. “Surprise?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

For one, horrifying second, it almost looks as though Merlin’s gonna close the distance between them and kiss him but whether he is or not doesn’t matter because Gwaine is grabbing Merlin by the arms and shoving him in the direction of the bar.

“Come on, Merls, let’s get drinks.”

Merlin goes willingly, disappearing in the crowd. Arthur slumps heavily next to Leon, pinching the bridge of his nose in hopes of stopping the headache he feels forming behind his eyes.

Such a disaster.

* * *

It’s not too bad, considering. Merlin sits next to Gwaine, cracking jokes and talking nonsense, and here and there he sends a soft look Arthur’s way but over all, there’s no indication he’s planning on mentioning the events of the last weekend.

Relieved beyond belief, Arthur focuses on enjoying his second beer and all seems good in the world until Gwaine opens his big mouth.

“Freya’s working tonight, by the way,” he aims at Arthur, giving his eyebrows a ridiculous wiggle.

“So?”

“So... are you gonna ask her out or not?”

On pure reflex, his eyes find Merlin just to see him frown in confusion.

“Freya?” Merlin asks Gwaine, flicking his gaze to Arthur.

“Oh, yeah. Princess here has been pining after the little minx for months.”

“I have not!” Arthur objects vehemently.

“Okay, maybe pining is not the right word but you’d like a piece, wouldn’t you?” He winks at him, ignoring his murderous glare.

“I didn’t know you liked her,” Merlin admits and he sounds almost... sad.

Arthur’s going to skin Gwaine alive.

“I don’t. Not like that.”

“Bullshit,” Gwaine doesn’t relent. “He’s got hots for her alright.” He seems to think then which.... looks almost painful on him. “But I think he might be a bit intimidated.”

“By Freya?” Merlin huffs with amusement, looking at Arthur for confirmation. Before he can say anything, Gwaine continues his mindless rambling.

“Nooo, by you.”

_Oh, fuck._

“Me?” Merlin wrinkles his nose in confusion, none the wiser the more Gwaine speaks. Arthur is contemplating throwing himself across the table and using any means necessary to shut him up.

Too late.

“Yeah. You know, he lives under this impression that he’s the best shag in ten mile radius. He wasn’t too pleased when I mentioned our little get-together three weeks ago--”

“Why the fuck would you even talk about that to other people?” Merlin whines but it doesn’t do anything to discourage Gwaine.

“--and how spectacular it was. And he didn’t believe me. So we had Freya back up my statement and I suppose he took it as a challenge because after that he all but ordered me to invite you to come with us here. I guess he just wanted to see who he was up against.” He says the last part to Arthur, winking again and Arthur’s trying to determine how many years he would have to serve for homicide.

“What were you even hoping to find out? How can you judge if someone is a good lay unless you shag them?” Percy joins in and Arthur feels betrayed.

“Exactly,” Gwaine agrees, pointing a finger at Percy. “I mean, it’s not personal, Princess. If you were into dick I would take it upon myself to sample the goods and carry out the verdict.”

“I think you lost me,” Merlin finally speaks, frowning at Gwaine who, Lord have mercy, opens his mouth again.

“Sadly, Arthur here is as straight as an arrow.”

Merlin blinks at him, completely out of his depth and finally turns to look at Arthur. There’s something in his eyes Arthur hasn’t seen before and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“Is he, now?”

“Yup. And it’s a shame if you ask me.”

After that, nobody says anything, apparently waiting for Merlin and Arthur to take over but there’s only a staring match between the two.

It’s almost as though Arthur’s body doesn’t belong to him. Because he wants to speak, he wants to say something to Merlin, anything at all, just to explain himself but nothing comes out.

It’s Merlin who breaks the silence.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he says evenly, not a single trace of emotion in his voice and Arthur’s stomach drops.

Gwaine makes space for Merlin to get out of the booth and it finally dawns on Arthur he needs to do something before it’s too late. If it’s not already.

“Merlin! Wait!” he jumps up and all but runs after him, as much as he can afford with two beers in his system. Predictably, Merlin makes his way to the entrance and Arthur’s panic spikes.

“Merlin!” he calls again as he bursts through the door after him. He feels only marginally better when Merlin stops and turns around.

“What was that about, Arthur?” he demands, deadpan.

“I... I don’t...”

“Are you in the closet?”

“No. No, I... there’s no closet. I’m not gay.”

“Well, neither am I,” Merlin scoffs and it sounds all wrong.

“I’m not bi either. I just... I like girls, okay? Only girls.”

Merlin just looks at him for a while, trying to figure him out. Arthur’s doing his best to not squirm too much under the scrutiny.

“You seemed to like a dick up your ass alright,” he points out, Arthur flinching at the bluntness.

“That’s not... I...” God, why is it so hard to form a sentence?

Suddenly, Merlin’s face shifts, a dreadful look overtaking it.

“Oh, God, you don’t! Gwaine was telling the truth. You...” He frowns at Arthur, eyes almost glassy. Arthur’s heart clenches painfully in his chest. “You let me fuck you just so you could prove you’re better?”

“No!” Arthur yells. “That’s not... I mean... yes? But Merlin, I didn’t... I didn’t know you back then. I just...”

“Oh my God.” Merlin hides his face in his hands, sounding horrified. “Oh my God,” he repeats. “Arthur, I... Did I f-force you?” Arthur gets ready to deny that. “God, of course I forced you! You don’t like me, you don’t like blokes. Shit, and I... I did... _that_ to you. Fuck!”

Starting to freak out, Arthur hazards touching Merlin to calm him down. It doesn’t go as planned because the second they connect, Merlin slaps his hand away.

“Merlin, that’s not true. That’s not true at all, I promise. You didn’t...”

“What is wrong with you?!”

“What?”

“Do you just go around fucking people so you can prove something to yourself?”

“I don’t--”

“God, this is so fucked up.” He slides his hands into his hair, pulling at it in frustration. “Shit. And I was so stupid, so stupid...”

“No, Merlin,” Arthur disagrees. “You weren’t stupid. It’s me, I--”

“I was! I thought... shit, Arthur, I thought that you... that we...” He shakes his head, looking so fragile Arthur’s heart is breaking for him.

“Merlin...”

“I need to go. Don’t follow me,” he warns with a raised finger when he sees Arthur’s about to object.

“Wait! You shouldn’t be driving in your state.”

“I’m sober.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’re upset, you could---”

“Don’t pretend that you care. Not now.” He shoots Arthur one last, pained look before he gets in the car and drives off.

“Shit,” Arthur nearly sobs. How did he manage to fuck this up so spectacularly? And gods, the way Merlin looked at him - like Arthur broke his heart. No, it can’t end like this. He would make things right.

He stomps back to the pub, fighting the urge to give Gwaine a piece of his mind and turns to Percy instead.

“I need you to give me a ride.”

“Why do you--”

“I don’t have time for this!” he snaps, too tired to feel guilty about it. “Come on, let’s go.”

Percy does listen, following him outside and unlocking his car.

“Want me to take you home?”

“No. Take me to Merlin’s.”

“Merlin’s?” he asks in confusion. “Why--”

“Would you just drive?”

Percy clenches his jaw, obviously biting back a retort and Arthur makes a mental note to apologize to him later. With a fruit basket, ideally.

“I don’t know his address.”

Arthur sighs, pulling out his phone and opening GPS, punching the address in.

“Here.”

Percy lifts an eyebrow in question. “Should I ask how you know where he lives?”

“No.”

“Thought so.”

* * *

“I’m sorry that I yelled. I’ll explain later. Thank you for driving me,” he says as he exits the car in front of Merlin’s place.

Percy waves a hand in dismissal. “No hard feelings.”

“Still... Sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiles. “Go get him, tiger.”

Arthur falters when the words sink in but before he has time to react, Percy drives off. It’s probably better that way.

A great relief washes over him when he sees Merlin’s car parked in it’s usual spot, signaling he got home safe.

He’s just contemplating what he’s gonna do if Merlin doesn’t let him in. Maybe he could serenade him?

He doesn’t want to say it’s a sign when, conveniently, a middle-aged lady walks out of the complex, giving Arthur enough time to slip inside without having to use the intercom but... yeah... it feels like a sign.

He takes the three flights of stairs, unsure whether the erratic pounding of his heart as he reaches the third floor is from the exertion or nerves. Considering how it picks up even more when he stands in front of Merlin’s door, he suspects the latter.

“Here we go,” he mumbles to himself and knocks, loud but hopefully not obnoxious. Nothing happens at first, and then there are heavy footsteps approaching the door. It flies open to reveal Merlin’s scowling face.

“I told you not to follow me.”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t drive yourself in a ditch.”

“Well, I didn’t. As you can see, I’m alive and thriving. Have a nice night.” He starts shutting the door in his face but Arthur manages to jam one leg in between. He’s not proud of his behaviour but this is an emergency.

“Merlin. Please.” He can only hope he sounds remorseful enough but Merlin doesn’t look like he will budge.

“Why are you here, Arthur?” he asks with a sigh, sounding as tired as Arthur feels.

“I want to explain. I _need_ to explain.”

“No, you don’t. I think it’s painfully clear.”

“It’s not!” he protests, growing more desperate by the second. “Merlin, please, can you just... let me in?”

“So you can feed me some more crap?”

“Hey! I never lied to you!” That much is true.

Merlin seems like he wants to disagree but he must see Arthur’s point because he doesn’t object.

“No. You didn’t.” Arthur exhales shakily. “You just made me go crazy about you.”

“What?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“I don’t!”

“Right,” Merlin huffs. “I told you I’d wanted you for years. Even before I knew you. And then I got to know you and it turns out you’re funny, and smart, and bossy, and lovely and so fucking perfect. And I was so stupid. So stupid for thinking there wasn’t a catch,” he says with self-deprecation.

Arthur wants to say something back but his mind is reeling from Merlin’s admission. He would love to take his time to appreciate it but sadly, odds are not in his favor.

“You think I’m perfect?”

Merlin laughs humorlessly. “Not anymore.”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

“Let me in, Merlin.”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t let me explain myself with words, I will have to kiss it into you.”

“You--” Merlin chokes on air, eyes budging out.

“Merlin.”

Finally, Merlin steps aside and Arthur doesn’t waste any time crossing the threshold and grabbing Merlin by his neck to crash their lips together.

As expected, Merlin doesn’t protest, letting out a surprised sound and then throwing himself into the kiss.

It’s only been a few days but Arthur’s missed this terribly. Missed _Merlin_ terribly.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers against his lips. “It was a stupid bet I made with myself and... I know I fucked up but... I don’t regret it,” he confesses, delighted when Merlin’s face softens at the words.

“You don’t?”

“Hell, no.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t even plan on jumping into bed with you. I just wanted to meet you, to see what all the fuss was all about.” Merlin huffs in amusement, the first, positive reaction he’s got from him. “But then I did meet you and I just... there was something about you, Merlin. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I still can’t. But the way you looked at me, it... I didn’t.... I just couldn’t say no to you.”

“But I... Arthur, you don’t even like men and I did all of that to you and--”

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to. You asked me and I said yes. And for the record - no, I don’t like men. I just like you.”

In lieu of an answer, Merlin pulls him into another kiss, hungry and desperate and Arthur swears he can feel every single thing Merlin does.

“You mean it?” he asks, shy and unsure.

“I do. I really do.”

Merlin gives him a shaky but happy smile and pulls him into a hug. It’s the first hug they’ve shared and it almost makes Arthur laugh.

“I suppose that means you’re gay for me, huh?”

“Hey!”

“We still need to talk about this some more,” Merlin warns as he releases him, turning serious again.

“I know.”

“And you need to talk to your friends.”

Arthur bites his lip. That’s gonna be such a pain.

“Our friends,” he corrects, proud of himself when Merlin’s face lights up in pleasant surprise.

“Right.” A wicked smile twists his lips and Arthur holds his breath. “So... have you come to a conclusion?”

“What conclusion?”

“Who’s better?”

Arthur groans. “Seriously?”

“Oh, I’m very serious. You got me intrigued.”

_Un-fucking-believable._

“Fine.” He scowls. “You are.”

“Really?”

“You know bloody well you are.”

“No, I don’t! That’s why I asked! And I did tell you you’re the best I’ve ever had so I’d be inclined to say you’re the better one.”

Arthur falters, looking for a sign of teasing and finding none. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But you already knew that.”

“Oh,” he quips, ducking his head. “Well, you... you’re the best I’ve had too.”

“I am?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Nice. It’s a tie then.”

“I suppose it is.”

“But... you know,” he says suggestively, trailing a finger over Arthur’s jaw. “If we give it a few more trials, we might eventually settle on the winner.”

Arthur makes an inhuman sound. “That’s... uh... that might take a while.”

“Oh, I hope it will.”

_I’m so screwed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might add a little, cracky epilogue later but don't hold it against me if I don't :D

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rumor has it (wrong)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476468) by [AmithiaEmrys (amithia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amithia/pseuds/AmithiaEmrys)




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